Tales of the Middle Ages
by Faethin
Summary: Final Story: Like Stars that fall unto the World: 'But her voice, filled with grief, anger and utter loneliness, can be still heard by those who get lost in the wood with an evil heart, and they shudder in their fear for the strange bellow...'
1. The Darkest Hour

Disclaimer: We doesn't own it precioussss, don't we? _gollum! _We wish preciousss, aye, yes, we do. But we doesn't.

A.N. Revised, improved and ready! Just add water and eat! :-P

No, really. This tale has been fixed from every little fault I could find. Special thanks to Link no Miko who is ALWAYS pecking on me…………… Just kidding! ^_^ Thank you for always pointing out mistakes! It really helps!

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The Darkest Hour: The Battle of Hyrule Field

_To my lady and liege Princess Zelda of Hyrule on her fifteenth birthday._

_Dearest Princess:_

_                Joy and happiness for you on your anniversary. You have reached an age in which the transition from childhood to maturity is at its height. May the goddesses grant you peace and prosperity in the years to come. We servants of the crown rejoice for having such a wise and fair young woman as future queen of our realm._

_                I have recently found, deep within my personal scrolls at the library, my own father's most precious possession: his personal journal. Within its dozens of worn and yellowed pages lies something of equal value to me: the memoirs of a beloved Hylian with whom I could share precious few moments in my youth; for he was a soldier of the King and, thus, he ended his days in honour and valour, slain by an enemy sword in a distant field. _

_                You may be wondering what could this have to do with you. Well, dear princess, it has come to me the knowledge that you have been interested of late in the accounts of the Fierce Wars that occurred ere the siege of the castle by Ganondorf's forces and the coming of the Hero of Time to the realm. It is well known to the educated that the fate of our kingdom was decided by a decisive battle that took place on the ninetieth day of summer and almost endured to the first day of autumn. In this great confrontation, the combined forces of the Hylians and the Gorons overthrew the alliance of the Zora and the Gerudo; and after a whole day of waxing back and forth, the battle ended with terrible loss and retreat by the alliance. _

_The realm of Hyrule should be held still by the Hylians. That is what the chronicles tell us. _

_But that is the truth till a certain point, my lady, till a certain point; for the battle was long and full of death and despair. And before its day another battle had been fought that was decisive for the outcome of this greatest fight. And the thing that might interest you, precisely, is that my father fought on both battles and came out alive and unscathed. Thus, princess Zelda, I present to you a detailed account of the event that set Hyrule as we know it: the Battle of Hyrule Field written by Remus captain of the second company of foot soldiers of the King, and transcribed literally by his son, Seamus._

Eighty-ninth day of summer as the sun is running for his setting point.

                It has been a terrible day for the companies. The Gerudo have not been that much hurt as our King had thought. Or maybe they were, but things have come out a way that none had foreseen, for the rumors we had heard from the scouts are indeed true: the Zoras have allied with the thieves. Our company was to take the entrance to Zora's River in order to prevent an attack from the Gerudo to our western province of Kakariko and the trail to Death Mountain. Thus, we departed from the village at dawn with the hope of arriving to the river by noon and set up a garrison. Our Hylians had barely come to the western bank when the cloud of dust the thieves leave over the once grassy plains of the field was seen to the west. It was indeed surprising since the fourth company of our horsemen, led by our lord and captain Gilestel, had defeated them in a previous battle, perhaps two weeks from now as far as the shores of Lake Hylia. Such a battle, my soldiers tell me, had not been fought in years! The Hylian cavalry swept through the horse-archers like a knife upon hard bread, although that would not be strange had it not been for the fact that we were outnumbered by three-hundred or more: the thieves had brought reinforcements from the desert not far to north. But the Hylians also recall the will and decision of our captain: strange is the power that radiates from him! He may be gentle, learned in the ways of lore and peace-loving. But in battle he turns into a stern figure with the coldest gaze I have seen. This must be part of his lineage's gifts. For is he not of the race of the Hylia that dwelled in the world many an age ago? Never shall that blood become thin. Yet, even with the presence of such a mighty lord amongst us today (for the captain had come along at the bidding of the king) fear smote me and my soldiers at the sound of the approaching hooves. Our hearts were heavy with the feeling of danger that loomed above us. Why would the thieves attempt another attack after having been defeated mere days ago?

                As we got into formation to receive the onslaught, the captain signaled his cavalry to follow him to make a counter assault on the Gerudo by the front. Such strategy would be irrational in any other place, but the thieves were known for their lack of real heavy cavalry. Time and again our horsemen had cloven their path among the Gerudo like wind flying through the grass, slaying many a vile woman while suffering not much from their petty arrows. So it was that our lord Gilestel motioned what little force of riders that we had brought to a staggered formation and blew his war-horn. I think they were not more than a hundred stout riders.

                The cloud of dust was getting closer and closer as we drew our blades from their sheaths and those who had shields unbuckled them from their backs, when suddenly (out of nowhere I thought at the time) some dozens of Zoras jumped out the water and charged at us with their bright tridents. Taken by surprise, the least we could do was to hold them for a while whilst the riders engaged the Gerudo. My company was the second of the rear guard and I suddenly found myself battling these vicious-looking fish men with long spears and tridents, and sharp fins as blades. I do not think of the Zora as savage or wild, but when it comes to fighting they can be as ferocious as their mythical shark of legend; it was so that I lost many Hylians just in the first charge. After a few moments even more of these fish-men darted out of the water while our riders were already engaged in battle with the thieves. I held the ever appearing Zoras with what little strength we had in the vanguard, although little hope of victory lay on my heart The Zora's arms were bent in a strange shape that I found out to be the fins I had heard they could display when the need calls to. I also found out that they could be quite sharp, as one of them struck in a shield and left it badly riven with a breach by its center.  The few fish-men became steadily at least three-hundred, and in my turn I slew many, perhaps a dozen by the time I realized our disadvantage. Thus the quick skirmish I had thought would be fought had become a fierce battle. The riders that had departed to stop the thieves had already been decimated, for the Gerudo attacked with poison in their arrows; and even though our armour is the best of the realm, many of the bravest knights I knew fell before this devilry. I do not know if the captain was wounded, I have not seen him since our retreat to the ranch perhaps an hour ago.

                Now that it comes to me, I wonder how we did escape from the Zoras and the Gerudo. We had to run all the way from the river to the ranch, and those are a good many miles. Well, perhaps not so many.

                The Zora chased us fiercely, but the goddesses know that the do not like to be too far away from the water. (I thank them for their caution). Therefore, only the Gerudo cavalry pursued us to the ranch. It is grievous to me the fact that our brave horsemen had struggled to keep away  the thieves, and that by the time we had arrived to the gates of Lon Lon Ranch I could only count as much as twenty riders still in their horses. It must be noted that the Gerudo cavalry had about five-hundred riders. 

Where had they kept such a force all these weeks? 

Our cavalry was only about a hundred or less, and not even the finest plate armour could withstand the bodkin arrows the thieves had used in this battle. 

I am being called at the moment. I hope with all my heart that it is my lord Gilestel who calls. May the goddesses protect him from any evil… and us.

Eighty-ninth day of summer, one hour after the last entry.

                Alas! Alas! Our captain was wounded by one of those cursed arrows! It turns out that he was with the last riders to enter the gates, defending the foot-soldiers from the enemy cavalry, when an arrow stuck into him by his shield-arm. An arrow that can penetrate Hylian shields! Close range though the shot was at, it is ill news that the Gerudo posses such a mighty weapon now. But why our captain? Why him? There are many Hylians who would give their life for my lord. This is ill news indeed, and our hope is diminished greatly, even to less than before. I have seen already many a young soldier letting out sighs of despair about the ranch and some, I may have seen, wept discreetly. 

My heart is as heavy as an anvil.

But not all is lost. Not all is evil. The watchmen at the walls report that already an army has left the castle and is heading towards here. But where did we keep such a powerful resource of soldiers? For the host issuing from the drawbridge is of at least a thousand brave foot-soldiers, and many a brave soul has passed away since this dreaded war started, so many years ago. And they bring cavalry too. My only guess is that the people of Hyrule have taken the arms along with us. 

So it is, then! This war signals the end of the distinction between commoners and knights. We Hylians fight for our realm at last, not for nobility or tittles.

Eighty-ninth day of summer, maybe three hours after sunset.

                It is now, indeed, doubtless that our captain was wounded by a poisoned arrow. I have been called by the King himself, who brought the host from the castle, to prepare a red potion. It is ancient lore, now, the making of this curative draught. But it seems that lore is not as spread as I thought it was and none knows how to prepare it. Therefore, I went to the house of the ranch owner, where the lord is lain. I met the owner as I was about to enter the house. He seems to be a hard-working man trying to sustain his family through the conflict. He has brown, bushy hair and a mustache equally bushy. He is not the kind of person you easily forget: he has a comical air that you just cannot ignore. But I think he would be more cheerful if it were not for our host on his grounds. He showed to the room were my lord is after a few polite questions about the battle and my own health. Upon entering the small chamber, I saw the King sitting in a small stool beside the bed. The lord Gilestel was very pale, and was sweating and shivering. He seemed to be muttering something, but I could not make out his words. The King lifted his head from his hands and beckoned me to come in. I approached him and he told me to, as quickly as I could, prepare a red potion. He said that the owner's wife also knew how to prepare the draught, and that I should accompany her to look for the plant from which the sap is extracted. I bowed and exited the room followed by the ranch owner. I think his name is Talon, but I cannot be sure.

                As I went down the stairs a young woman, pregnant with a child, greeted me and told me to follow her. I did so, and we went to barn, located on the south-western part of the ranch, closely followed by Talon. As we arrived, I could see some herbs and weeds growing over the black soil; and among these the herb known as the Sacreye peered above the others. The uprooting of this plant, called the _alba opjhe_ in pure Hylian, is an irksome work, for it needs to have _all_ of its tiny roots unspoiled. Otherwise, it leaks its sap all over and becomes brown just a few minutes after being pulled.

                The owner's wife, whose name I cannot remember, pointed at one of these foils standing over the ground. I bent down and began to remove the soil about it. As I did the slow and careful unearthing I had a few words with the woman that I should remember ere long. She contrasted very much with her husband. While he was tall and plump, she was of average stature and slender. Her blue eyes and straight facial traits made her a woman of great beauty. But perhaps the most interesting of her features was her long and abundant red hair. I fell gracefully over her shoulders and back while her bangs hung over her forehead not reaching her eyes. I still cannot understand why I am not able to recall her name, but perhaps a woman's fairness was not what I desired at the time to ease my heart. My wife is all the beauty I need to believe still that the world is fair.

                "Is it true, then, that a great battle will be fought tomorrow?" she asked.

                "Indeed," I answered. "Tomorrow is the day when we set Hyrule to the Hylians."

                "Do you know, in the first place, why are you fighting?"

                I was struck by this question. Did I know why we were fighting? The words seemed also jest to me. It even almost angered me.

                "Indeed," I said again a bit annoyed. "For our king and our country."

                "Not that," she said softly. "I meant for what reason. Why are you at war with the other inhabitants?"

                It came to my mind, for the first time in many a long year, the reason of our war: The Triforce.

                "I, I know what we are fighting for," I managed to say after having taken some time to think my answer through.

                The woman smiled at me. "I may be a farm-girl, but I am not completely unlearned in our history. We have battled the enemy to stop their lust for power and guard the Triforce. It is true that the thieves began the war. But have done enough to stop it?"

                These words sank me into deep thought. It is true that we Hylians have guarded the Triforce throughout the war. But, was it worth all the spilled blood? Was it worth all the lives lost?

                "Tomorrow, when you fight, remember this: if you should fail, not only Hyrule, but the whole world shall be covered under utter darkness. You are our only hope. Please, keep that in mind."

                I remained silent for a time. I had nothing to say.

                "Here," I said to her with the uprooted plant. "It is done."

                "Then I shall go and warm up the water." And she left for the house.

                Talon had remained in silence throughout our conversation. I cannot be sure, but I deem he does not realize the wisdom his own wife possesses. We headed back to the house also.

                After preparing the potion, I gave the lord to drink it. I could see the immediate effects, as some color returned to his pale skin. But his breathing was slow, and his fever was still high. The King asked me for his state, and though I told him I did not know, I lied.

                Alas! I did lie! I have seen many a time the faces of death. Perhaps too many a time. I can be sure that our captain Gilestel shall not be drawing breath ere dawn and the breaking of day!

Fifth day of Autumn, almost midnight.

I can now sit and write in peace for the first time in many days. Since my last writings, I have been through the worst and darkest days of my existence. I have now the courage, nay, the skill to transcribe the horrible memoirs of the greatest battle fought over the plains of Hyrule Field. Although it yielded a victory for the Hylians and signaled the end of this war it has left desolated the plains of our realm and has stained forever the fields and the minds of the races of Hyrule. May Farore aid me in this account.

The horn in Lon Lon Ranch was winded short after dawn. As I had foreseen, the captain was death and the King could not suffer being in sloth any longer. He summoned all the Hylians to a last word and spoke to them of the need of victory. How splendid he looked! And what a fire did his words kindle in our hearts! He spoke about our children, and our nation, and our right as the heirs of the Hylia. His voice rang in our ears as promises of a new morning and of the brotherhood that should exist between all. It was amazing how every soldier I could see was beginning to feel the lust for battle though. I myself felt the sword trembling in my sheath as if alive. I drew it and could see its fine, polished blade gleaming in the sun. 

I hated it. I wanted it to be stained in blood; not shinning like a relic, but stained like a weapon.

I tremble at the memory of my own self.

A great clamour arose from every throat of every Hylian in the ranch. The gates were opened and the host marched forth to meet the oncoming doom that awaited patiently. I was leading again the second company of foot-soldiers, but this time I strode behind the third line; I was to engage in battle from the moment it began. To my surprise and wonder, the King rode among the knights like one of them just a few feet beside us. I decided that if things turned ill against us I would die guarding the King instead of slaying mercilessly and in vain. It seems that the goddesses wished for events to test my will in this matter. But they know I passed the test.

Perhaps two hours had passed since our departure when scouts returned with the news that a great host of Gerudo and Zora awaited us near the entrance of Lake Hylia. There were many Gerudo horse archers and many foot-men of the Zora with long tridents. The King (and myself) had learned in previous battles of the powerful archers of the thieves and decided for a new strategy. All the mounted knights dismounted from their horses and joined the ranks of the foot-soldiers. In this way a heavy shield-wall was intended to be created to protect us from the bodkin arrows. When all riders had joined us we continued our march towards the entrance. I must say that the minutes passed slowly and if lust for battle was in the air just a few hours ago, anxiety was all about us now. The soldiers tightened impatiently their girths and buckled their shields in their backs, gazing about them in impatience. The King was one of the few riders not to dismount yet, but he was one of the few who seemed tired already. It must have been a sleepless night that which he had. But then again, I myself had not slept at all. I noticed that the sun, which had shone brightly at dawn, was being obscured by the clouds gathering above us. I did not like the view.

Who would like such an omen?

Impatient as we were, the time for battle seemed not to arrive, and I was running anxious also. The host carried a mist of tension and anger. I saw many soldiers begin to sing to calm down the impatience. I, for one, knew the song.

_The clouds were gray and the fog about_

_The swords were clean and the spears were stout_

_The moon was blue and the stars were red_

_The horse was dark and black was head_

_The yells were heard and were thrown away_

_Lest our fright of war came today_

_The host was set and the foe was there_

_The fight began and lord was aware_

_On a bright moon_

_Battling on a white-faced moon_

_Elves had been fooled once more_

_Searching for the old, long lore_

_On a bright moon._

Perhaps some bit of nonsense was all we needed, for when I finished this short and silly song of my childhood, almost the _whole _host finished with me. I laughed at the silliness of the song and the King noticed this and smiled in his turn. That helped relieve the tension. Until, that is, we began our ascent to the hill.

When the first scout reached the hilltop an arrow flew to meet him right in the chest. He fell heavily of the horse to the ground, breaking the arrow and staining the ground with the first blood to be spilled that day. The King immediately ordered the formation to be prepared. At his word, the first company marched forth to the top. Half the way had they gone when I was commanded to follow them. We set at once, with our shields ready and our swords gleaming in the light. What light was this, I cannot tell; for the sunlight had been blocked in the sky.

Atop the hill I could see the vastness of the host we were about to engage. The silver scimitars and the golden tridents also seemed to gleam in the half-light as if the goddesses had not decided yet who should arise in victory that day. The first company was just about five-hundred feet from the Zoras when the sky suddenly turned black; not because of the weather, but for the arrows that had been flung from the Gerudo bows. At once, the captain of the company raised his sword and the soldiers disappeared out of sight under a wall and roof of Hylian shields. 

How the Triforce glowed even in the twilight!

I ordered to attack with a call and the foot-soldiers of the Hylians charged against the legions of the Alliance. The first company already was charging at the Zoras with grim determination and will as I ran amongst my soldiers to their aid. 

And the sky dreadfully became black again. 

At my sign the shields of my Hylians were raised and the light had been barely blocked by our barrier when a rain of shafts fell upon us. A few soldiers fell with the arrows that had managed to come through, but the company was virtually untouched. The King's strategy had worked. I signaled again and after lowering the shields we charged to the aid of our kindred yonder in the field. The Gerudo realized that their strategy had utterly failed and threw aside their bows and arrows. The spears were raised and the thieves went hastily to the aid of their allies. I had already began slaying any foe that stood in my path with no mercy as I felt the need for survival flowing through my body like a chill. A Zora targeted me as his prey and stabbed me with his trident. I caught it with ease with my hand by its handle and wrenched it away from my opponent. Eyes shinning in fear, he tried to retrieve it, but I hewed him by the throat with great strength. The Zora fell lifelessly and I carried on with my battle. A Gerudo sprang towards me with a great shout and threw me to the ground away from my shield. Before she could sink her spear in my chest I lounged with my sword at the lance and clove it in half. Cursing, the thief drew a long knife from her belt and tried to fling my sword-strokes away. In one sudden movement she made me cast away my blade. Grinning, she lounged at me just as I rolled away and my hands gripped the trident I had taken from the Zora. With a sudden resurgence of power in my grasp I stood up in a quick movement and trespassed the Gerudo by her hips. Moaning in pain she fell to the ground and I quickly finished her off.

I turned my head after this toward the hill where I saw the rest of Hylians pouring down the del. The King was among them.

I quickly ran to where my liege was, cleaving my path with the sword and stopping sudden charges with the trident. The King saw me approach and even in the middle of the battle I could see him smile.

"Already with no shield captain?"

"The need claims it, sire."

"Such a need it is… They shall see that I am not King only for the sake of my lineage."

With this, he drew a long-sword and raised it above his head. The King is a tall Hylian, but he seemed to grow in stature and might then. With a cry, he whipped his steed and rode to the battle yonder. I smiled in my turn and followed him as I could. Following him I was when a horn blasted throughout the battlefield. It did not sound like a Hylian call so I looked to whence the sound had come.

I stood in horror.

With the might of his own bodyguard, the King of the thieves had flung himself into battle. I could see he wore a red cape and was clad in a black armor. His red hair flickered like a flame over a gem he bore in his forehead. He was riding a black stallion of the finest I have seen and hewing every foe in his path with a huge two-hand sword held in a single. I quickly ran towards him in an attempt to stop him from reaching the King. Fool of myself. As he saw me approach he raised his brand and swung at me. To my greatest fortune, the blade was caught between the trident's teeth. I swung and swept back trying to hold it long enough to drop him off his horse. Instead, he let go the sword and drew a heavy lance with huge pikes on both sides and lounged at me. I could only jump backwards before the lance crushed the trident into pieces as he retrieved his sword. I stood again and threw myself at him to try and dismount him. Folly by my part again, for I had not realized the huge man he was. With a laugh he caught me in mid-air and threw me back to the ground. I landed heavily but tried to stand up dizzily. He laughed again and spoke to me:

"You are a brave soldier. A fool, but a brave fool you remain." With this he hurled his lance at me with great strength. I rolled away from the pike that landed just a few inches from my throat. He rode away into the battle and I lay stricken in the ground as if wounded, terrified as I was about that man. Even if he had not shown anything I could sense an evil air about him. I tried to get up for a third time but a Zora dug his feet in my chest with great fury. I gasped, but I felt an overwhelming wrath against that cursed fish-man. Dodging his trident, I stood up and stuck my sword in the Zora's face. He fell as I ran for the King yet again. To my surprise, I found my liege battling furiously atop his steed with two Gerudo women with long scimitars. I hewed one of them as the King slew the other and I beheld him. If I had thought he looked tall and proud at the beginnings of the battle I should have seen him now. His noble traits were blended into an expression of hatred and dread, and his blonde hair was all mingled with dirt and blood. Tall and proud… and fell also. He looked at me but seemed not to know me. He just gazed me with hate in his sight and rode to slay another thief and hew another Zora. I decided to follow him to prevent him from getting caught in an ambush in his wrath.

I evaluated the battle as I followed him amidst the field. The Hylian army had indeed broken an important part of the Alliance's legions, but things were turning for the worse now, and our fury and lust for battle had betrayed us. Our ranks were being pierced, our flanks were not well guarded, and the personal bodyguard of the Gerudo King (a company of huge, plate-armour clad warriors known as Armos and wielding giant axes) penetrated our ranks like stones upon water. Each time a Hylian attempted to hew at one of these monstrosities the giant would only raise his axe and deflect the blow, almost always notching the sword. It would then swing its weapon, slicing through armour and mail like thin tin. I saw, horrified, how three Hylians and one Zora were hewed in half by an Armos sweeping with its axe. The beasts could not even tell very well the differences of friend and foe. 

Seeing the King now away from me and having one of these devilries approaching, I vowed to kill one or die trying. As the Armos approached slowly to me, I dashed at it with my Hylian sword ready to stab. The creature could not stop this attack, since it was not a swing, with its axe. I could feel my blade sink deep into the giant's armour. With a terrible shout, the creature swung his axe at me wildly. One of the strokes landed on the ground and the axe sank in the stained grass. Seizing my chance, I hewed at the Armos' head. I heard a clank, and part of the monster's armour fell off. With renewed wrath, the giant charged at me again. I threw myself sideward and saw with lustful amusement how the giant, in his fury, beheaded a Gerudo that was about to slay one of my fellow soldiers. I lifted my sword and let fall the heaviest stroke I have done, perhaps in my life. The creature let go a cry and fell to his knees and onto all fours as if crawling. I saw and stood perplexed as strange flames consumed the Armos to the point of making it ashes in the bitter wind.

Looking for the King again, I clove and hacked my path through the field in search for my liege. I saw him again battling with more thieves than the last time. A few desperate soldiers were trying to defend him from the enemy spears, but were not achieving much. With a shout, I hurried to the sovereign's side to join these Hylians, desperate though they appeared. I hewed one of the thieves and retrieved her scimitar. I must confess that I have always felt fascination for other weapons aside the sword, and I felt, somehow, disappointed when the Gerudo King broke the trident I had wielded. The scimitar, to my joy and surprise, was not covered in blood. I had the chance to swing the first stroke of this great blade in its existence! Smirking, I released a whirl of slashes to the thieves that were assailing my King. When the last about him had fallen he turned to me and, to my surprise, smiled again.

"I see you like foreign arms, captain."

"I do, my liege, and I try to put them to the best use."

He laughed, and I laughed with him. But our moment of jest was paid dearly. A cursed arrow that emerged from the battle stuck on my King's arm and I saw how he fell with a noise to the ground. I hastily threw aside my weapons and went to him. He lay in the ground, but no blood was about him. I thanked the goddesses for this small favor: that the arrow had not touched a vein. I bent down and held his head in my hands. He had passed out and was pale as never. Suddenly, I heard a hoarse laugh and turned round. I saw the Gerudo King laughing evilly down at me and the King.

"So we meet again, brave one!" he said with scorn and insult. "But there shall not be a third time."

He lifted his huge sword as I prepared for the last stroke of doom. I a sudden time, my movement I regained and flung at him a lying stone on the ground. It hit him on his forehead and his gem was shattered. With a curse. He threw his sword at me as I struggled to grab my own, not very far away. The Gerudo blade landed inches away from my head, making this encounter the second time he nearly slew me. I grabbed my brand and turned to him. He had drawn yet another sword from his stallion and was about to hew the King. I ran in terror of my lord's death and swung at the thief's blade. As they made contact the Gerudo's weapon was cloven by its middle and sparks flew in the air. Cursing again, he drew yet _another _sword and stared at me with hatred in his sight. But before he could swing his blade, or even mutter a word of insult at me, another horn rang throughout the battlefield. I forgot for a split second about the King of thieves and gazed again at the hill.

I was amazed at what I saw.

A smaller host of Hylians was running down the hill, fresh and ready for battle. And behind them ―Praised be the Goddesses and Nayru for her creation― an army of Gorons wielding huge battle-axes and clad in sturdy armour made of leather and even stone! I laughed in joy and cast my sword in the air and retrieved it as it fell. It was such a rejoice and surprise of my fellow warriors that a huge roar swept through the field carrying song and laugher, and every Hylian in our army felt his feet leave the ground by the lightness of his heart. The Gorons had come not an hour too soon to our desperate aid. And so it was that the great leader of the Stone-bellied people met with the King amidst the great battle and lifted my liege over his foes and carried him away from battle. I had sworn to protect my King in battle and had fulfilled my oath. I could now return to the fray untouched by remorse or anxiety.

And now the battle waxed furiously to and fro in the great field of Hyrule. The Gorons were of regular stature most, but there were ones of greater size among, and one them (one that came late) was as big as the drawbridge of our beloved city. Our foes shrieked in fear at the sight of this huge Goron and hails of darts and arrows flew onto him. He seemed to take notice indeed of these, but not more than the notice a man gives to a bee-sting when he is working hard and concentrated. The Hylians charged at the Alliance's ranks with renewed vigor, and this was the result of the coming of the Gorons: upon the east rode our knights, mounted again, cleaving their path as their adversaries attempted, in futile efforts, to stop them. To the west the axe-gorons engaged the Armos, with bigger ease that out poor foot-soldiers, sweeping and sweeping back their mighty axes against the easily-broken armour of the giants. To the north, where the main Gerudo host was set, myself and the greater part of the foot-soldiers battled the enemy with the fire kindled in our hearts anew, hewing and swinging and stabbing and prodding and even punching!

But the coming of the Gorons only tipped the balance to our favor as much, the battle was not over yet. The Gerudo and the Zora are fierce fighters and did not cow, not even if they were then outnumbered; still the silver scimitar and the golden trident slew many a Hylian and Goron. The north, were we fought, was almost overrun, and the King of the Gerudo had long before disappeared leaving his army at the mercy of his increased foes. The east was also being won by our brave knights with the aid of the Big-Goron and one they called the Hot-Rodder Goron who curled himself into a ball rolled his enemies away and to death. The Zoras could not withstand this kind of charge (not even with a full formation of trident-men) and were quickly forced to retreat to the center. Our Knights then chased them and slew many in their terror and disorder. 

The west, on the other hand, was not being easily taken; the Armos had met their match in battle, but the main force of the Zora was there, and was being held against the entrance to Gerudo valley and the desert. With their paths to retreat back to the lake closed, they fought with overwhelming fierceness and despair, and, thus, they could not be conquered. The army to the north, now under my command, was now forcing the Gerudo to retreat to their desert. Amidst yells and curses the thieves were slowly giving back the ground, leaving many a soldier dead or dying in the soil. After a time we even met with the knights in pursue of the front-line Zoras. Trapped between the anvil and the hammer, the Zoras flew in panic back to the lake only to be met by the Goron host blocking their exit. The Gerudo were far braver than their allies, but hope was no longer in their hearts, and many were already fleeing back to Gerudo Fortress. The trapped Zoras fought no more. They cast aside their weapons and cried and sued for mercy. By the state of their host, anyone could tell about their terror for the might of the Hylians and the Gorons. The Gerudo, at last, won back the entrance to the valley and retreated back to their stronghold.

And so it was that the great battle of the fields of Hyrule was come to an end. The Zoras that had given up were shown to the lake after pledging their service to the King of Hyrule with an oath. Nevertheless, their weapons were taken from them. The bodies that lay in the field were beyond count, but the soil was later esteemed by a counselor of the King to have held about five-hundred Hylians (not counting the ones back at the entrance to Zora's River), eight-hundred Gerudos, a thousand Zoras and three-hundred Gorons. And though the victory was ours, to look at the disaster of the field and to find not a dear friend of yours among the living was enough to forget about the glory of having saved Hyrule (and, as the ranch owner's wife would have said, the world). The loss of so may lives was mourned the very next day as the King and the Chief of the Gorons swore perpetual alliance between the Hyrule Castle and Goron City. They also became sworn brothers, and Hylians and Gorons cheered and sang in clear voices a song of victory.

_We hope, we that dwell beneath the stars_

_For a world without dread, conflicts or wars_

I can only remember as much, for I could not still remove the memories of the battle the day before. I have met the Gerudo King of thieves; he has spoken to me. Now I cannot find relief or peace until I see such an evil removed from the world. I think that the next battle shall take place in the siege of Gerudo Fortress. If so, then I myself shall slay the King of thieves or die in the attempt. I cannot tell why, but I feel that if he is not banished from this realm, great evil will come in many other ways aside war. He is ever after the Triforce, there is no doubt about that. But he has no army now to enforce his desire now. That may slow him down, for a time.

The following days we set to the task of burying the bodies. Each Hylian dug a grave in the hill where the battle had begun. There, the bodies of our kindred were lain not to be disturbed for ever. For the corpses of the Zoras and the Gerudo, though, a huge pit was dug. With no such memory even as a prayer we cast the Alliance's soldiers as we could. I was tempted to set fire onto them, but the King forbid me to do such an out of custom act. Common act or not, I would have done it.

I have just received the news from a Goron errand-runner. We set forth to Gerudo Fortress tomorrow. I have nothing more to say other than I shall serve my realm time and again.. May Din protect us, may Nayru counsel us and may Farore aid us.

_Here ends the account by Remus._

_P.S. As you may know, my lady, Gerudo fortress was taken shortly after in a short but furious battle between the Gerudo and the Hylians. There, caught in an ambush, my father died in the service of Hyrule. After the war was over, the King mourned him and in his grave were lain a Gerudo scimitar, a Zora trident, a Goron axe and a Hylian sword._

_Thus concludes the account of the Battle of Hyrule Field as told by my father Captain Remus of the second company of foot-soldiers of the Hylian Army. As you can see, my father had some gift for small foresight: he was able to feel the evil that Ganondorf would cause to the people of Hyrule. Though he was not able to do it himself, his wish was carried out, and the King of thieves was banished from the realm._

_A fact that I am sure will get your attention is the person of the Captain Gilestel. Do you know who he was, dearest princess? He was none other than the husband of the lady Dainúviel of the Woods, mother of Link, the Hero of Time. Was it not a great coincidence that such a great lord and fair lady perished in a war started by the Gerudo King of Thieves only for their son to overthrow his realm of darkess? I myself find this very interesting._

_Sincerely yours, _

_Loyal sage of the Library, Seamus Remus' son._

A.N. Just for the record, Gilestel is an elvish word for star of hope. I wanted to give a proper name to Link's father.

                Well, newcomers, how was it? Did you like it? Hate it? Just review with your comments and you will make me a very happy person.

                The Writer.


	2. The Lady of the Lost Woods: The War of t...

Disclaimer: I don't Zelda or any characters that may have appeared in any Zelda game.

A. N.  Ah! Yes. One of my favorites Did I ever mentioned that I had started a long time ago another fic and that I didn't like it so I threw it away? Well, after that long-winded fic of mine I came up with the idea of the Tales: short and sweet, just like the stories I like. 

Enough! Read on and tell what do you think of this fic!

The Lady of the Lost Woods: The Fierce Wars

A gray dawn approached the mourning city, as if the goddesses were trying to match the sky's hue with the hearts of the Hylians. The first rays of morning brightness that reached the market could only uncover from the shadows many people sitting on the deserted streets of the town. Lying on the floor and leaning to the central well was a weeping woman clutching a small medallion shaped like a heart and with the picture of a man engraved in it. By the bazaar, a man sitting in front of the door nibbling on a hard biscuit that the owner of the store had kindly given to him two days ago was about to finish his breakfast. Sitting next to him was a figure of a woman clad in an old cloak travel-stained and dirty, alternatively begging to the store owner and to his nearby neighbour for some food. On the other side of the town center were more people of not too different appearance and condition all of them shivering by the cold wind that had come with the morning light. Some of them had their heads nodded in despair, while others gazed at the fortress that once had provided a little ray of hope time ago, though it was not so in those days. The castle that at times of peace showed great majesty was now somehow making every citizen that looked at it be aware that its proud crown and towers were just a little haven in the midst of a sea of evil. The great Hyrule Castle of the kings of old would not aid them in the Great War that had kindled in the once peaceful country. Victory could only be achieved by arms. Yet it was not by lack of them that the Hylians saw triumph very far away and unconquerable. What is the use of an ancient and great craft in the making of blades if there is none left to wield them? But even weakness in numbers was not the cause of their hopelessness. No, It was not lack of valour or men. It was lack of faith that kept the Hylians dreading their lives and cursing their existence. For there is not any weapon more powerful than despair. And he who knows how to wield this blade is the most dangerous enemy one can have.

Dyni woke up with no sound at all about her. It was not strange, however, to find that silence had been occupying laugher and merrymaking's places for many a long year. She got up slowly and went to her baby's cradle just a few steps away from her bed which had become quite big since her husband had left to do battle with the king's enemies. She hated the awful lot of space that the bed offered every night after dusk. She preferred to remain awake instead of calling for the memory of the father of her child, probably in a pavilion away from her warm embrace. The baby was soundly asleep and she thought he looked just like her husband, except that the child did not have his gray eyes, but her blue. His hair was short and the proud parents could not tell whether he had his mother's golden strands or his father's brown locks. The child seemed not to care about anything at all, though, as long as his mother would stay near him. And what baby can be happier than the one with his loving mother holding him in her arms and keeping him warm?

The sounds of approaching footsteps coming up the stairs made Dyni turn to the door, holding to the groundless (some would say absurd) hope that her husband would return at the moment and tell her that the war was over and happiness would return soon and so would peace. Instead, a knock came through the door and a voice calling for her.

"Lady Dainúviel! Are you awake?"

"Yes, Lampa."

"Would you be needing something?"

"Nothing, thank you Lampa."

"What about breakfast, my lady?"

"I'm not hungry, thank you."

The footsteps sounded again until they died away in the tower's stairs. Dyni yawned and took the cold cup of tea that she had left the night before. She took a sip and sighed. She was hungry indeed, but she did not want to talk to anybody at the moment. Loneliness was by now an old companion, and she had become used to her. The only person she allowed near her was her baby. And perhaps her husband… in her dreams. There, he would often return to the drawbridge with his broken men and notched swords but with their proud battle standard waving in the free air. And she would be happy and sing:

_It's been a long time_

_Now you're coming back home_

_You've been away now_

_O! How I've been alone._

But he would reply, with tears filling his eyes:

_Wait, till I come back to your side._

_We shall forget the tears we cried._

_But if your heart breaks, don't wait._

_Send me away._

And she would sing again:

_But my heart is strong. _

_I shall wait for long._

_But please don't delay._

And then he would smile, and turn his back to her. And she would wake up with tears flowing from her eyes.

            Dyni realized suddenly that it had been a week since the queen had dearly departed to the goddesses' side, leaving the heir to the throne behind: A beautiful girl whose destiny was either to rule the peaceful and prosperous realm of Hyrule, or order the devastated wasteland that once was the last remnant of the Hylia. After washing her face in a near jar, the lady sighed again as she walked to her room's entrance and opened the door. The hall and the stairs were empty and not a sound could be heard. She headed downstairs into the main entrance hall, and there she saw the royal guards standing by the main staircase leading to the throne room. She walked towards the stairs and answered with a slight bow to the greetings of the soldiers. She climbed up all the way of the long staircase till she stood in front of the closed door leading into the king's presence. She paused for a moment and thought about the queen again. A single tear rolled over her cheek. She opened the doors.

            The throne room was a magnificently decorated room with a single great window facing the courtyard. Rich suits of armour were displayed at both sides of the entrance and above it was displayed an emblem of the sacred Golden Power. A violet carpet stretched from the door to the king's seat. Many paintings hung from the walls including one of the previous king and a representation of the creation of Hyrule. Dyni was especially fond of one that depicted a Hylian of pure blood, unmingled with common people. He had golden hair and gray eyes that shone with wisdom. A straight and thin nose gave him a kind appearance that somehow resembled of her husband. Besides the paintings, many crossed swords belonging to the kings of old were shown with pride by the royal family. These had all the royal emblem of the Triforce on them. And though it was obvious their antiquity, the emblem seemed not to be affected by the passing of years and was as if newly forged. The rich curtains hanging about the window were said to be made by the Hylia as one of the few things their craft was able to preserve from their long absence. 

Dyni walked to the throne and bowed before the king. He had his head sunken in deep thought and was finding hard to notice anything, or anyone, around him. She stood there until the man, feeling a presence, raised his head; and in his grief-stricken face a smile appeared.

            "What wouldst thou be needing, O lady Dainúviel?" he asked.

            "I came to see if you needed my services," she answered.

            "Hath you now? Although it is not thy duty to be at my command you come in my moment of woe. I thank thee! But thine is not a service I need, though thy beauty is by itself a great aid to me. Blessed is, indeed, thy husband, for having such a fair and kind woman as mother of his child! Alas for me! For I lost a woman that shared these same virtues!"

            The king was silent for a moment again, and then he looked at the single window leading to courtyard and smiled bitterly again.

            "Mine daughter," he said, "is now in the care of a young Sheikah woman who has sworn to protect her with her life. This woman is the daughter of the same that thy husband asked me to give thee as a bodyguard."

            "Is it Impa then?" Dyni asked.

            "Yea," the king assented, "I deem that she shall prove to be great a caretaker as her mother is."

            Dyni thought of Impa as a kind young woman, yet bred for war: the role of surrogate mother of the princess was not one that she would have expected the Sheikah to choose. 

            Before she left, a question that had been burning in her mind but had been quite forgotten was kindled again.

            "Sire, if you will not be needing me I shall go. But may I ask for the name of the princess?"

            "It is an ancient custom," the king replied, "that every firstborn female born unto this family should be named Zelda. Thus, my daughter's name that is."

            "Zelda… That is a beautiful name."

            "I know," the king said sighing, "It was her mother's name. But pray tell me, what be thy son's name? Surely he has his father's?

            "No, my lord," said Dyni, "His name is Link, like one his ancestors."

            "Indeed. Well, lady Dainúviel if you be not needing anything from me, then I thank thee again and bid you to pray for our men in the battle."

            "Every night I do so, my lord."

            With this, Dyni bowed before the king and walked for the door. _To pray for our men in the battle_, _was praying for war correct?_ But she would not be praying for war, she would be praying for their lives. But it occurred to her that to pray for the lives of the Hylians would be to pray for the destruction of other races. W_ould the goddesses grant any mortal that wish?_ She resolved to pray, then, for the end of the war. _Any end?_ A positive end, that is. _What was a positive end in that conflict? For one of the races to win?_ If that happened so, other races may lose, and to lose would mean death. _So what good was to pray for anything in a war?_

            A sudden feeling of another presence made Dyni look back to the king's seat. Out of the shadows unseen a Sheikah was now standing beside the king. He was whispering something to the king that made him stand up and inquire in a loud voice:

            "Driven whither?!"

            "To the ranch, lord," answered the Sheikah in an almost whisper. He was wearing a blue suit without cloak and with a linen cloth with the red Sheikah eye covering his chest. His dirty boots made no sound as he followed the king into a nearby table, richly adorned like everything else, with a rolled map over it. The Sheikah took the map and stretched it over the table again. It was an atlas of the realm. The king began to mutter some words, apparently suggestions, and the Sheikah would only shake his head in disapproval muttering something too.

            At last, the king turned his head to Dyni and she had slight startle and continued to walk towards the door. The king bade her to stop and to come nearer.

            "Lady Dainúviel!" he said, "If thou wert only a simple woman then I would command you not to hear what you need not. But, alas! You are the wife of my most trusted captain, therefore these ill tidings concern you as much as they concern me."

            Dyni felt a shudder go all the way up her spine. "What tidings might those be, lord?"

            "We lost the battle a few hours ago, and the Gerudo now have control over the north-eastern part of our nation. The entrance to Zora's River is theirs now, and the Zoras have allied with them. Thus, Kakariko is undefendable and the surviving troops are now trapped and besieged at Lon Lon Ranch."

            Although she already felt it, Dyni still asked: "But why would those tidings concern me, my lord?" She immediately blushed for having asked such an obvious question.

            The Sheikah bowed to the king and spoke to her.

            "By leave of his majesty, I must tell you that your husband, captain of the Hylian army, has been grievously wounded by a poisoned arrow. I left the ranch in stealth two hours ago, and he was alive. But I cannot tell if he is still.

            Tears began to blur Dyni's sight. The king stirred up nervously.

            "I was bidden to haste for the castle to call for reinforcements. They are scarcely two-hundred against five-hundred. All of the knights have been dismounted while many of the Gerudo horse archers are still about. The wounded are equal on both armies, but the thieves are already tending theirs. The Hylians have nothing to heal their own."

            A small tear rolled over her smooth cheek, but she quickly flicked it away. The king frowned with his head bowed.

            "In his most delirious fevers," the Sheikah continued in a lower voice, as if only intened for Dyni's listening, "the captain asks for his wife. He lovingly calls her by Dyni and mutters time and again that the forest is the only place left safe."

            Suddenly, the king took the map abruptly and tore it in pieces. He bellowed, with hate in his voice, calling for his captains and for his personal guards. Dyni, taken by surprise, looked at the king. But in the place where a tired man, drown in sorrow and suffocated by grief, had stood, now a kingly warrior was revealed. He took his sword and swept his cape, and behold! He was clad in shining chain mail and about his waist was a girth with a silver sheath hanging from it. He sheathed his blade and called again.

            "So! The Gerudo have humiliated my army!" He cried with surprising fury. "Well! Let us see, then, if advantage in numbers was their only advantage in the battle yonder! To me! To me! We ride now to war! Let all healthy and brave man go with me! To war!

            _To war I ride now._

_            To honour the cause, _

_            Of those who before me bow._

_            And should I perish in the front_

_            Let there not be those who cowardice daunt!_

The door opened, and in came his bodyguard and the door ward of the entrance.

            "We heard a call from our king," they said. "What might he be needing?"

            "I go to war now!" the king replied. "Wilt ye come with me?"

            A sudden silence overcame the hall. The king (and Dyni) could feel the wavering of his men in the awkward silence. So he spoke to them.

            "We hope, we that dwell beneath the sky, for a change in the world where none shall perish. Where none shall be able to call his neighbour an enemy, and peace shall rule all the living things. Then will Hyrule, last realm of the Hylia, be blessed by the goddesses and prosperity shall come again. But until that day is come, I shall watch upon my kingdom and will protect it by all means necessary against all enemy, even against itself! The first army is broken, but the Hylians are not through yet! Hylians! Will ye aid your kinsmen? Will you protect your wives and children? Will you honour the dead by making their passing not futile? Will you not ride to war with me?"

            Within a second of silence, the Sheikah warrior that had been almost hidden in the shadows of the corner where the sun's light did not reach and the torch's light could not cover sprang to the front and spoke to the men.

            "Despair is one thing, but cowardice is another. Did you not hear what your king just said?"

            Silence.

            "Despair is a mighty weapon, but it can be notched by another: _Valour._"

            Some mutters could be heard within the soldiers.

            "Come on now, Hylians!" said the Sheikah crossly, "The king commands you to go to a just war war! _Obey him!_"

            The gathered men were now about fifty. One of them, suddenly, noticed Dyni, still standing besides the king, and same man recognized her.

            "Why is the captain's wife in the throne room?" he asked.

            "Because my husband has been wounded," she said so everybody could hear. "Wounded during a battle for his family and for his nation. He, too, suffered the terror of being so close to death. Yet he ignored it and went forth, ever thinking of me. Is that a sign of weakness? No! He loved me, but he loved his country also. So why are you still lingering here, when you should be out there in his aid?" Although she had said these words with pride, she immediately repented of them: she felt arrogant.

            "To the brave feeling, a valiant heart," the Sheikah said, noticing her awkwardness. Some men lifted their head feeling a lighter heart. "We Sheikah shall help you as the true shadows of the Hylians that we are, though not in the ways of arms. But help needs courage and a sword besides it. Will you let the lady weep in her grief and her woe unheeded?"

            Many soldiers gazed at Dyni, and noticed her beauty. She truly looked like a Hylian maiden from the eldest days, with her long, golden hair, and her deep blue eyes.

            "Today is the day that we shall cleave our path to victory," the king said with some of the men nodding and muttering in approval. "This is the time when the last Hylians that dwell in the realm shall prove again their blessing with the goddesses." Many men heeded with impassible attention to their sovereign. "This is the day when our enemies shall know fear at the sound of our horses' thundering hooves. This is the day when we set Hyrule to the Hylians! So I ask ye again! _Will ye ride with me to battle?_"

            A deafening roar swept throughout the room, causing many more guards to come. At the sight of their king in his mail and his soldiers ready for battle, all of the guards joined the gathering troops. Soon, the king left his room with a hundred Hylians following him and strode along the stairs heading for the market to gather more. Only Dyni and the Sheikah were left in the hall of the king.

            Both were silent for a while, looking at the doors that now were wide open. Suddenly the Sheikah spoke to Dyni.

            "I was sent here for another reason too."

            "Excuse me?" said Dyni eyeing at him.

            "The captain also told me to take his wife to the woods where she would be safe."

            "What?"

            "I must escort you to the Lost Woods along with your son."

            "The captain told you that?" she asked, picturing the forest and shivering at the only thought of going there. "But I do not want to leave my people in their hardest moment! I want to stay with them if the king would not let me ride with him to see my husband!"

            "Yet I was bidden to do so," the Sheikah said, and as these words were spoken out of the shadows came another figure clad in blue with a chest plate with the Sheikah eye too. She wore a belt with a long knife on the back of it at waist-height, her red eyes sparkling in the twilight of the corner, and her short, silvery hair tied in a ponytail. 

            "It is exactly as my kinsman says, my lady."

            "Lampa!" Dyni cried in surprise.

            "We must take you and the child to the woods," the mysterious Sheikah said, "By wish of my captain will you let us?"

            Dyni felt no desire to run to the forest, being the Lost Woods their refuge. But the child was ever on her mind, and she thought fleeing would ensure some kind of protection.

            "When would we be arriving?" she asked not being sure yet.

            "We would have to travel by night, on foot and quietly," the male Sheikah said. "Also, we are not sure what path to take; if the king and his men defeat the enemy by today, in straight line we should go, but if battle drags on until tomorrow, I must fulfill my oath and go to war with my king. Therefore, a path around the ranch would be the best, and only my kinswoman would accompany you. But to answer your question: the longest time would be a night's walk."

            Again, _going to the Lost Woods?_

            "But I have heard legends," Dyni said, unsurely. "Legends that tell of the curse of the forest. Everyone that goes there becomes a monster"

            "To that, I have no answer. I do not believe in such tales."

            "An incredulous Sheikah?" Dyni asked.

            "No, milady but I have been in the Lost Woods before, and naught has happened to me ever."

            "But the road must be perilous," Dyni said, pondering hastily over the matter.

            "Perilous, and full of dread, milady. Yet, it is the safest choice for the family of the captain."

            Dyni was not so convinced of the later, but it _was_ her husband's choice.

            "I shall go with you then," she said. "But I hate to leave my people in this hour of utter darkness. I hate to expose my son to this journey, too. But should the darkness cover us all and there was anything I could do to keep him safe I would cross the Lost Woods ten times to ensure his life and health. Thus, I do not go for my safety, I go for his."

            To the south, a while later, the king had gathered enough Hylians for the battle. Soon, emptying the armories and bidding farewell to the women and children, the Hylian army was ready to go to the aid of the captain. To the common folk were added the knights that still remained in the castle, so that the king had two-hundred mounted knights and a thousand men on foot, all armed with iron shields and broad swords. The sovereign blew his ancient war horn and the blast echoed throughout the city lifting part of the heavy weight that that had lain in the hearts of the Hylians for so long. Amidst the cheers and clapping the drawbridge was lowered and the proud army went forth from the city. But before they exited the king spoke again.

            "Today is the day when we tip the balance of war in our favor. The enemy is strong, the Gerudo are agile and the Zoras too, but they cannot breach through our mail with ease. So I say to ye Hylians: do not despair if we are outnumbered, for the strength of the enemy may be in numbers but not in weapons. Our craft in the fabrication of arms is ancient and well preserved. The scimitars shall break asunder before our broad-swords, the arrows shall bounce harmlessly from our shields and neither their cavalry nor their foot-soldiers shall stand a charge by our brave knights. It is today, thus, that the glory and splendour of the ancient Hylia shall be brought forth to the realm again, even if it is for a short time. I will call brother to all men that fall today in the defense of the kingdom. Therefore, let no man forget this day! Let the enemy shiver at the sound of the horn! Let us go now! May Din protect us, may Nayru counsel us, and may Farore aid us!"

            With these words, the hylian army finally set way to the ranch, still amidst the cheers and clapping of the citizens. Hope had been rekindled again in their hearts.

            A. N. Nope, it's not over yet. Unlike most fics regarding Link's mother, I actually took the time and described with detail all of the way from the castle to the wood. Next chapter will deal with that! 


	3. The Lady of the Lost Woods: The Field of...

A. N. This is the second part of the revised version of 'The Lady of the Lost Woods'. I hope you like it! And as usual, I would ask you to leave your comments in a pretty, well-earned, long-awaited and good review. ^_^

The Lady of the Lost Woods: The Field of Hyrule.

In the twilight of the night, a person standing in the street could have seen a figure walking in the shadows, striding for the drawbridge. A closer look could have revealed the silhouette of a woman clad in a dark-blue cloak, the hood not being able to conceal the bangs that hung over her forehead. An even closer inspection would have showed two more figures without cloak but clad in blue walking silently and sometimes blending with the partial dark that covered the city at eight o'clock of the night. The hooded figure would be seen carrying something in its arms while the other two appeared to have some kind of weapon in their hands, though it could have been hardly mistaken by a sword.

                The threesome was walking in a line. The male Sheikah sent by the besieged captain was leading with Dyni walking quickly trying to catch up with his long strides and Lampa, Dyni's bodyguard by request of the captain, in the rear, ever aware of watchers. They arrived to the gate.

                "How shall we cross it?" Dyni asked.

                The two Sheikah looked at each other and pulled out at the same time a pair of large pins and held them in each hand. The male Sheikah threw his at the top of the drawbridge while Lampa threw hers right at the middle. He then took out a rope with a hook at one of its ends and hurled it at his pin. As soon as he felt the rope taut he began to climb with amazing speed until he was atop of the bridge. Lampa turned to the lady and spoke.

                "We have no other way to cross the gate in stealth," she said in a low voice. "Give me the child. I will carry him to the other side while my kinsman helps you."

                Although she knew that her baby would be safe in her bodyguard's hands, Dyni felt reluctant to be separated from him. She slowly uncovered the boy from her cloak, wrapped him even tighter on his blanket and handed him to her guardian. The Sheikah took the baby and gently placed him on her back. With speed that matched the other, the female Sheikah climbed to the top of the gate at the same time that the male landed near Dyni.

                "There is no one in our path for as far as I could see," he said. "I saw some lights a few miles to the south-east, though. If my heart does not lie, I think that battle was not fought any today. I regret to tell you, thus, that I have to leave you and my kinswoman. Climb on my back. I will leave you to your guardian as soon as you reach the other side.

                "I may be a woman," the lady said firmly although regretting his departure, "but I can climb a rope when the need tells me to do so." She did not like the idea of holding another Hylian in her arms rather than her husband or child

                The man gazed at her strangely. "Proud as her husband," the Sheikah then muttered, lowering his sight. "I do not doubt you, milady. But can you do so as fast as your bodyguard or me?" To this Dyni made no answer.

                "Let it not be said that the lady Dainúviel is a simple woman witless at the view of peril," he said with a low sound that resembled a laugh. "Yet, if it is your choice, then I shall step apart."

                "No," Dyni said in the lowest tone, throwing her pride away. "I will do as you suggest." With this, she held onto the Sheikah while he climbed for a second time the gate. 

                At the top of the drawbridge, the lady gazed into the horizon to the south-east. After seeing the lights of which the Sheikah had spoken, she aimed her sight to the ranch. Some walls mingling with the night's mist a few miles away were the only things that greeted her eyes. She turned to the shadow-man but did not find him. She looked down only to see the Sheikah pulling the ropes and retrieving the pins from the wooden bridge. Then with a small flash that parted the darkness he was gone. Dyni, having heard of these disappearing techniques performed by the Sheikah, turned again looking for her guardian. She saw Lampa with the baby still on her back, already across the moat, nailing another large pin on the floor. She then reached for something lying on the ground and pulled it. Another rope had been tied around a similar pin atop the bridge. The other end was being tied by Lampa at the other side.

                Dyni understood her guardian's idea. When the female Sheikah had finished, the lady grabbed a nearby hook left by the other shadow-man with an engraved Sheikah eye and passed the rope through it. She looked down and closed her eyes. Without a second thought she slid all the way from the top of the drawbridge to the arms of her bodyguard who seemed to smile even in the night's shadow.

                "Do not laugh," the lady said with dignity as she stood by herself. "It was not pleasing to do that."

                "I am sorry milady," Lampa said. "I'm not saying it was."

Having retrieved both pins and the rope, they went forth into the night's veil.

                Hyrule field was the greatest extension of the small kingdom of the same name. At its longest it stretched for eleven miles, from Kakariko to Gerudo Valley. Hardly a small dot in the world, it was nonetheless the only realm in which its inhabitants still claimed to be descendants of the noble people of the Hylia. The creation of life in the world is recorded elsewhere, but as far as history could uncover, the Hylia had been the goddesses' chosen people and they had been blessed with the gift of magic. But their lines had become thin over millennia and very few lingered yet in the world in whom the true Hylian blood of old still ran through their veins. Of these few folk were the Royal Family of Hyrule and some other lords and ladies who were not akin to them but of Hylian ancestry anyway. The Lady Dainúviel and her husband were of these last remaining Hylia of non-royalty.

                The two shadows that now walked in the night made a halt after two hours of journey. Dyni sat on the ground tired, while Lampa gazed at the east horizon in awareness.

                "It's cold," the lady said holding her baby even tighter. "Could we not… do something?"

                "It is much to risky to start a fire," the Sheikah said sitting down in front of her. "And there is not a single tree with boughs near enough to even try to get some fuel."

                Dyni went silent, but even in the darkness, Lampa could make out her shivering figure. The Sheikah felt sorry for the lady, but the only thing she could think of to comfort her was to sing. And these soft-spoken words the shadow-woman sang.

                _Out of the night_

_                When the Hylia yet dwelled _

_                In these lands about_

_                And the world was young but ripe_

_                When war was first fought hither._

_                Out of shadow_

_                There once came a man that_

_                Sought to renew_

_                The forgotten times of peace_

                _And the Sheikah knew who he was_

_                Romahil was, this valiant man_

_                Who lost it all by this noble desire._

_                Out of the dark_

_the sword-arm felt the heavy_

_                Wan of his days_

_                thus he beckoned his kindred to_

_                The last of his great councils_

_                Life may yet ail, and hope may not hail_

_                But memoirs do not quail_

_                And love shall not fail!_

                The Sheikah went silent too when she finished. Dyni had been listening to the whole song and could not help being but curious.

                "Who is that man of whom you sang?" she asked.

                "The song is about Romahil Sword-arm. He was a mighty Sheikah from the old days when the Hylia were still in these lands. During a battle many ages ago, he lost his sword to a foe. But he kept on hammering enemies with his own hands and forearms covered in the steel rings of his mail-shirt. It is said that every blow he delivered was mortal, no matter where would he strike. This is only the end of the song, for I cannot remember the rest of it.

                "But why did he lose it all in that war?"

                "Romahil lost his family in that same war, and he was never seen again for many a year. And then one night a stranger arrived to a Sheikah gathering by Lake Hylia. He bore scars on his upper limbs and was fearful to behold in wrath. He was hailed, thus, as the returned Sword-arm by the Sheikah elders; though he gave little heed to his title, indeed. But every night when the moon was not waning like the Gerudo but full like the Sheikah he would sit on a hill and talk to the young men and women and teach them wisdom, until one night he knew it was his last and spoke the last words of the song not just to the youth but to all who would listen.

                "It is a sad story," the lady said. 

                "It is," Lampa said. "But the last words of Romahil are ones of those which remain in the heart of every Sheikah."

                "I would like to hear some more tales about the Sheikah… some other time."

                "I would be pleased," the Sheikah said. "But for now let us make haste."

                Both women stood and carried on their road. Midnight was still a few hours away, so they had enough time still to arrive to the woods ere dawn. The stars shone brightly in the sky, and by the moonlight about them they walked along the even brighter way.

                A few lights could now be seen to the west. They were scarcely a league away from Lon Lon Ranch and already a foul smell was in the air. The stench of death surrounding them indicated that soon would they be reaching the deserted battle field, where Dyni's husband had been wounded that same day. Presently, Lampa noticed a few paces away the firsts of hundreds of bodies they  saw. Dyni squirmed at the sight of the corpses of Hylians that lay in unnatural positions. They had been hewed cruelly in various parts and some had been bereft of some limb. The lady saw, too, the bodies of the Gerudo women that fell before the Hylians. The scimitars were apt to hew only while the long-swords could hew and stab; and the thieves showed profound wounds in which the blood had already dried. The horrible sight was worse when she saw the corpses of many Zoras that had come to the aid of the thieves. The terrible stench of the field and the smell like rotting fish that also came now were enough to make her feel sick. Dyni delivered her son to Lampa and after an unpleasant retching sound she vomited over the darkened grass.

                "Are you all right, milady?" asked Lampa. Dyni wavered.

                "I'll be fine," she said in a gasp. "Please, let us get way from this place."

                At that same moment a bow sang and an arrow stuck in the ground near Lampa's feet. Some voices sounded and another arrow shot through the air, this time sticking on one of the death Zoras that lay nearby. The Sheikah immediately threw something to whence the voices had come. A blinding flash similar to the one Dyni saw the other Sheikah cast parted the night, and suddenly her guardian grabbed her arm and pulled her just before another arrow landed where the lady had stood.

                "Thieves in the night!" Lampa said running, and alongside was Dyni. "They have come to get what they could from the bodies. They must have heard us."

                "Are they Gerudo?" Dyni asked.

                "I'm not sure. But the voices were female, I think."

                They ran in the darkness, though not blind. For the moon would be full the next night and was illuminating the travellers' way. Soon, more voices were heard and more bows sang, wasting arrows in the dark because they could see none. 

                In running through the night Dyni stumbled upon a rock and fell to the ground. Her arm landed on a sharp stone that peered a few inches above the ground. She gave a slight cry as the stone dug deep into her arm and her own blood stained her cloak making it even darker. Lampa turned and lifted the lady from the ground. An dark wound had been opened in her shoulder, for she had rolled in the air to prevent from falling over her child. The pain was intense, and yet by her own pride she did not cry aloud, though a tear ran over her face.

                "We must not continue for a while," Lampa said. "It is a nasty wound and it might worsen if do not tend it right away."

                "But the thieves are out there still," Dyni said. "We must carry on."

                "Not for now, milady. You must lie down." The Sheikah looked at the bleeding puncture in the lady's shoulder and frowned.

                "I must seek for some herbs. I don't carry any with me, although I should."

                "Are you leaving me alone?" asked Dyni with fright in her voice.

                "I'm afraid that can't see any of the plant I need. Do you know which one? It is called the sacreye."

                "Sacreye?" the lady said wincing.

                "Or Sheikah _alba opjhe, _as it is known in pure Hylian."

                "You mean the holy eye?"

                "You do know what foil is that then. It is the only remedy I know for profound wounds."

                "I understand," Dyni said. "Please, don't delay."

                Lampa walked into the darkness and soon vanished from the lady's sight as she tried to cover her wound from the wind. It was bleeding still, but stopping steadily. She then sat with her legs crossed and put the baby in her lap. He was awake, but not crying. His eyes made him look, in fact, as if he was in awareness for somebody to come also. Dyni was glad of the fact that he was awake yet calmed and judged the time correct to feed him. Thinking that the Sheikah would return soon, she nursed her child. The baby almost smiled and gently suckled from her breast, and she felt happy for having guessed what he wanted. _I love him,_ she thought. And she was sure that the baby thought of her likewise.

Half an hour had passed, and Lampa had not yet returned. The lady gazed into the night searching for any silhouette, either to be glad or to run. The wound still hurt her but it had stopped bleeding already. She had ripped a piece of her cloak and tied it around her shoulder. The pain had been intense, but she had withstood it as she could. The cold wind of the night was caught by her golden hair waving in the night that also caressed her face. The lady felt her gaze stray again to the ranch, about three miles away, and the memories of her husband again returned to her. She closed her eyes for a moment and she had a vision of a dying man lying in a bed with the king burying his face in his hands. At a movement by this man the king would take a wet piece of cloth and put it in the man's forehead. The man would begin to shudder, muttering some words and the king would bent towards him to listen. The door behind them would open then and a pretty woman with red hair would enter followed by her husband and another man that appeared to be a healer. But the wounded man would begin muttering again, and the healer would take out of his pouch some herbs. The woman would hand him a small bottle with water and after tearing the plants and extracting their sap the healer would pour it into the recipient. The husband would take the bottle and go forth to warm its contents. After this, the woman, who was pregnant and due soon, would speak to the king; and the sovereign would only nod in agreement. Ere long, the husband would return with the medicine, which was now bright red. The king would take this remedy and would try to awake the man with soft words. But he would only mutter again and again… _Dyni… The woods are safe…_  

Suddenly, she heard some shouts and opened her eyes. She could make out the shadow of a person running in the night. In a few seconds Lampa was yelling at her.

                "Milady, get up! They are coming!"

                A rain of arrows poured over her as the Sheikah ran. Dyni stood and ran for the path that led to the woods. Lampa quickly ran alongside her. 

                Out of nowhere five Gerudos suddenly sprang in front of them, scimitars and torches in each hand.  Lampa stopped and stared at them with cold eyes. The Sheikah threw aside a clothpiece that hung over her back and drew a rapier. A long knife also flashed in her hand suddenly. Dyni went blank with fear, but holding her child with one hand she clasped a knife she had kept under her cloak and drew it; her mind might have been afraid, but her heart was ready to protect the baby to the end. The Gerudo clinked their swords between them and charged at the two travelers. With impressive swiftness Lampa dodged the first scimitar while burying her long knife in the thief's back. She then swung her rapier at the second Gerudo who fell with her throat bleeding open. The Sheikah then locked in battle with the remaining three. Dyni saw her and tried to aid her guardian. She ran for one of the thieves and stabbed her swiftly in her right shoulder. The woman shrieked in pain and dropped her blade, but with a quick movement she turned round and smote the lady with great strength. Dyni fell to the ground with a wince. Her lip was bleeding and she could taste her own blood in her mouth. The Gerudo threw her torch and tried to grab her scimitar with her left hand, but before the lady could motion anything the thief fell lifeless to the ground wounded by the Sheikah rapier.

                "Milady, run! You must run!"

                Dyni saw with horror how Lampa barely finished this sentence, for an arrow had flown and stuck in the Sheikah's chest. Lampa wavered, and her breath turned into furious gasps. But still she fought on, like a true child of the shadow that only quails before hopelessness. She hewed one more thief with her stained rapier as she broke asunder also the scimitar of the only remaining rival. The lady saw again how the last Gerudo fell before the Sheikah long knife at the same time another arrow plunged into the shadow-woman's shoulder. With her last breath, Lampa uttered _run! _to Dyni and fell to the ground.

                The lady ran away with the Gerudo flinging arrows all around her. The night covered the country and that was fortunate, for the Gerudo would not have missed their target so many times during daylight, had they missed at all. After some minutes of desperate pursuit there came the moment when all of the arrows where spent and their prey had not been accounted for. But the thieves had also cunning minds apart from deadly blades, and judging by the path Dyni had taken they knew where to head.

                A. N. See you in the next chapter! Please leave your comments!


	4. The Lady of the Lost Woods: The Passing ...

A. N.Third part ahoy! As always, leave your comments. What do you think of the short songs?

The Lady of the Lost Woods: the passing of Dainuviel.

Midnight was come, and the small warmth that had been comforting the lady soon perished, and cold was the air about her. Shivering, she sat down by some lonely trees to rest after running for more than an hour. She was exhausted and the fresh memory of Lampa's passing haunted her. She wept for a long time, until she could feel the baby stir in her lap. He was now crying.

Muttering some soft words, Dyni was afraid the cries would attract the thieves. She decided to carry on with her path so that her paces would rock the baby into sleep. She painfully stood up and went on the with road. The weariness in her body was dragging her to unconsciousness, but her baby's cries would make her carry on. With her head bowed, so that she could only see the rocks and plants that lay over the winding road, she felt suddenly the wind blowing coldly all round her. Tightening her cloak, she turned her head back to the castle, of which only a small light could be seen in distance, and remembered an old song she had learned in her youth. Out of the ancient lore of her lineage she sang to herself and to the child a lighthearted and soft-worded song.

_Once there was a way_

_To get back homewards_

_There in winding road,_

_The way back home._

_Sleep little darling, do not cry,_

_For I shall sing a lullaby._

_ _

_Golden slumbers fill your eyes._

_Smiles awake you when you rise_

_ _

_Sleep little darling do not cry,_

_And I shall sing a lullaby._

_ _

_Once there is a way_

_We shall walk homewards_

_Once there is a way_

_To get back home._

_Sleep little darling let us lie,_

_Then I shall sing a lullaby._

_ _

_Dreams of love may fill your mind._

_While the long road still may wind._

_ _

_Sleep little darling do not cry,_

_For I have sung your lullaby._

_ _

And though she sang in a quiet voice, her words long flew in the night.

Dyni could notice the grass growing thicker and taller after another hour of steady walking. She raised her head and saw many trees standing like pillars at an entrance just a few steps away. Although too tired to smile, she just went on with a great relief. The Lost Woods' entrance was near, and there would she be able to finally rest after her journey in the night. With the little strength she had left, she quickened her pace and entered the grove that stood before the blackened threshold.

The trees around the lady were tall and gloomy. Yet she felt no fear while walking beneath their hanging boughs. The temptation of lying down to rest beneath the cover of one of the trees rang in her mind. But, suddenly, the baby stirred in her arms and let out a quiet snore. Dyni sighed and forgot all thought of stopping to rest ere she arrived to the woods. To help herself keep awake she gazed at her surroundings, trying to imagine the same place during daylight. Since spring was almost over and autumn was already claiming its share, the trees should have their leaves dyed in a golden hue. The soft grass beneath her and the chanting of birds in the morning with the golden color about her would have made of the small grove a comfortable place to spend the day. These pleasant thoughts made her weariness seem to grow smaller. Along the beauty of the place, she thought, peace would be the most important matter. Peace on the realm was what she wished: for all the races to be in harmony and joy. Little did the lady know of the great and decisive battle that would soon be fought the next day. 

The dark forms that had been surrounding her for a while were now drawing closer. The grass became taller and thicker but with many patches of soil scattered about, and the trees seemed to grow in stature and shade. Finally, almost hidden behind the hanging boughs and grown bushes, Dyni saw the entrance to the Forest: a huge trunk that had been felled and hollowed to shape a tunnel that rejected all brightness. What little moonlight that had not been obstructed by the almost woven branches and had been lighting her path was lost in the depths of the entrance. Dyni removed the hood of her cloak and stood before the gate to the woods. _It's finally over_, she thought. Suddenly, as she prepared to take the first step towards the forest, a bow twanged, an arrow flew and she felt a sharp pain on her thigh. With a cry, she fell to the ground; and as she did so, the baby awoke and started crying. Loud voices rang through the air about her.

"Ai! Ai! I got it!", one of the voices said. "I got it!"

"Shut up!", another answered. "We know you got it!"

Dyni recognized with horror the Gerudo voices. Wincing and trembling, she tried to crawl painfully towards the gate.

"It's getting away!", the thieves shouted. "Don't let it get to the woods!"

Summoning all of the strength she had left, the lady stood and tried to run. Just passing the entrance was she when a hail of arrows flew stuck on the old wood.

"Did you get it?", a Gerudo asked.

"I didn't… yet!"

The moonlight was still pale, but Dyni saw a wooden bridge at the end of the entrance. She could hear the child crying and feel him trying to grab the cloth of her dress. _Do not despair!_ _I'm almost there!_, she thought.

"Feveil! Grab him!,"

_Him!, _she thought with horror._ They want my baby!._ And she quickened her pace as she could.

"Feveil! If he gets away you respond with yer life!"

Desperate thoughts flew about her mind. _I must… cross… the bridge!_

Suddenly, she felt another sharp pain, this time in the back of her waist. She cried out as all strength left her and she collapsed on the wooden boards of the bridge.

"Going somewhere?" Feveil jeered as she pulled her knife out of the lady.

In her last desperate effort to protect her son and feeling all dim light going away from her Dyni pulled out her knife again and lunged weakly at the woman, who jumped backwards quickly.

"So!" she said. "The little rabbit-eared wants to play! Well I got no time for games, so I'll just have to drop you!"

Taking out her steel scimitar, the thief swiftly cut the left rope of the bridge. Screaming in terror, Dyni fell from the boards and to the ground. And there, she knew no more.

"Garn! What do you know! Out o'the pan into the fire!"

All of the thieves roared in laugher at Feveil's joke. Seeming pleased with herself the Gerudo went to the edge to look at the foolish Hylian they had caught wandering in the night. The woman gazed downwards, but she could only see shadows.

"Hand over a torch!" she commanded. "I want to see if it needs finishing off."

Torch in hand, she leaped skillfully into the deep and landed near the body. The torch flickered in the darkness, and yet the thief could scarcely see more and a couple of steps before her. The Gerudo approached to the form of a Hylian lying in front of her. Drawing the torch near the face of the body, she let out a cry of surprise.

"What in the…? Hey! We ain't hit no rabbit! This one's a woman!"

Dyni's long hair was all spread about the soil. She had landed on her back while trying to soften the fall for the child. In her hand was still the knife, with its blade notched and broken, and blood was all about her back. The Gerudo was furious at the sight and called loudly for her fellows. Loud she called time and again. But her voice was lost in the wind, and her fellow thieves could not listen to her. 

Instead, a strange wind blew, and it was queer indeed; for instead of a cry, the wind carried a bellow. And, Gerudo though she was, Feveil was frightened. Out of the looming darkness a voice was heard amid the wind. And the voice was not hoarse or unpleasant, the more fear to the thief. 

For it was the voice of a child. And the strangeness of this was frightful. But it spoke not the kind of things one expects to hear from a child. This voice was laughing and the laugher was that of an amused girl.

And she called for the thief by her name, "Feveil! Feveil!" But the voice seemed to come from everywhere.

"Show yourself, you coward!" the Gerudo cried, but she was only answered by silence. Instead the torch began to flicker violently by the passing wind. She was afraid it might go out.

"Ai! Where are you all? Where are you?"

The laughers turned into stern voices, and the thief heard them spoke.

_Anybody who comes to the forest will be lost…_

_ _

Feveil unsheathed her scimitar, and it trembled in her shaking hand. The tall trees seemed all to be alive and to have ears of their own. They all bent down upon her to listen for her final doom, or so she felt, the wind ever blowing through her red hair.

_Everybody will become a Stalfos…_

Her hands gave her the unpleasant sensation of moist in her grip. She cowed to the ground, suddenly, as she heard a wail in the wind. Shaking violently, she tried to regain her nerve and to grab her sword, which had slipped from her grasp as if of oil.

_Everyone… Stalfos…_

_ _

The wind blew even more fiercely about her, carrying laugher along with it. The trees where now whispering; an endless mumble in a strange speech: soft and melodious yet long-winded and slow. But whatever it was, it was hot with wrath. And wrath was that which she felt about her. And she also felt cold, and lonely, and utterly scared.

She felt the true fear for the shadows.

# 

_So you're not here anymore…_

And the wind blew once again, and her torch flickered desperately and died out.

Still days ahead, the mysterious disappearance of Feveil while checking the forest would add up to the countless tales surrounding the mysterious Lost Woods.

***

Saria had been walking in forest for the night, having felt sleepless and wary from the moment the day had departed. She walked towards the small pond near the Kokiri shop and sat cross-legged nearby. She dared not to take of her boots and sit with her feet swirling in the water as she used to in the warmer days. Instead, she wrapped a mantle about her and sank in deep thought, wondering about the strange wind that had begun blowing about an hour ago. The Kokiri houses were beginning to change from a plain brown to a reddish hue of it, just as they did when fall was approaching. The leaves that were carried by the wind from the Lost Woods stained the ground in a golden color that so much was liked by Saria, and the once fertile ground of the forest became hard and black, but not unpleasant. The forest was preparing for autumn and winter.

The Kokiri girl lay on a small patch of grass that had not been covered yet by the leaves and gazed at the moon. It was shining powerfully, but it was not yet full. The stars about it where diminished by the greater light and only the shiniest could be made out. All was quiet and sound, but not at peace. The girl could now feel some tension in the air. She rose and looked all about her, expecting to perceive a sound or sight. But all was silence, except for the chirp of the crickets and some occasional owl's hoot. She laid again assuring herself that nothing was happening. And for a while she closed her eyes, unable to sleep.

A scream parted the air and Saria jumped up and stood trembling. The scream had frozen her to her feet, and the quiet sounds of the night had dissipated, but everything was silent now. She then heard some voices laughing harshly and felt the wind blowing for the entrance to the forest. Some other children had been woken by the scream and stood by their houses, trembling with cold and fright. Some ran into one of the trunk-houses.

"What was that?" a voice asked above the others. A red-haired boy with freckles in his face and an arrogant look walked out of the house.

"It came from the bridge," Saria said pointing at the entrance. "It sounded like a woman screaming."

"Nonsense! There are no women in the woods!" replied the boy. "Only girls. And girls don't scream like that."

"Whatever it was you should go and check it out." Saria said. Many Kokiri nodded in approval.

The boy frowned at her and blushed. "Why should I go?" he said in an angry tone. "I'm the boss round here! Why don't _you _go?"

The children looked at Saria half expecting to hear a flat refuse.

"Fine," the girl said to the amazement of all. "I'll go. It's probably nothing."

The children all began to murmur among themselves as Saria gave Mido the coldest gaze she could before heading to the entrance of the forest. All the Kokiri stared at her until she was out of their sight.

After crossing the tunnel, Saria almost fell off the edge as she walked out of the entrance. Both ropes at the other end had been cut, and the long, wooden bridge was hanging from her side. The Kokiri wondered at this and decided to go back and tell the others. Just as she was turning around to return a faint moan came from the bottom of the deep. _Someone is down there!,_ Saria thought and decided to help whoever had fallen.

Hanging from her fingertips onto the edge, she leaped and landed on the soft soil. The darkness was so absolute that not even the bright moon of moments ago could be seen at the bottom. The small traces of light that were visible at the entrance were lost and she could see nothing. Summoning her fairy, Saria used the pale light of her guardian to look about her. Lying on the grass was a torch with fumes still emerging from it, and a long scimitar besides. The girl was sure that someone had been wandering through the forest and had been caught. A woman probably. _A Gerudo._

Saria let out a sigh. _When will they learn?_ She thought, _Anybody who comes to the forest will be lost._

She was about to go back when another moan came to her ears.

Turning to whence the sound had come she stood in awareness.

"Is anybody there?" she asked after a while without hearing anything. A slight sound, and the cries of a baby reached her hearing.

The Kokiri ran to the spot from where the sounds came, her guardian fairy following closely. There, lying on the ground was the body of a young woman holding a child in her arms. The woman was badly injured and her blood stained the grass about her. She had a bruise on her cheek and a broken arrow was pierced in her leg. Filled with surprise and pity, Saria bent over the woman and drew her head over her chest.

_She's still breathing._

__As she prepared to dart back into the dark to get help the woman opened her eyes and gazed at the Kokiri girl. Saria could see she was in great pain, and before the Hylian could mutter a word the Kokiri spoke.

"Be quiet miss," Saria said softly. "I'll get help."

The woman winced and tried to shook her head. The baby was crying in her arms and she motioned the young girl to get closer.

"Do not worry," the Hylian said. "My time is come. But his is not."

"Do not speak like that. Your wounds can be healed. And your child shall be safe here."

Dyni smiled at the Kokiri but sadness was in her gaze.

"Even if that were true, He is dead. I can feel it. He died in a war I did not understand. But it does not matter anymore. I cannot live without Him. But I still wonder, why did he had to go?"

The lady suddenly wept and continued talking as if someone else were there. Saria listened to her with keen attention. 

"Why did you go? I told you not to leave me. I told you not to leave me, or him. What should I do without thee?

_I don't want to live without your love_

_I don't want to face the night alone_

_I could never make it through my life_

_If I had to make it on my own._

_I don't want to love somebody else_

_I could never find somebody new_

_I don't want to live without your love_

_I just want to live my life with you._

_ _

__Dyni cried, but amid her grief she turned to Saria and smiled ruefully again.

"I am losing already much strength," the lady said before closing her eyes. Saria shook her gently and called for her.

"Lady! Lady! Please don't go! You have still your baby to think about! Lady!"

Dyni lay motionless, but Saria could still see her breath drawing from her mouth. The cold wind had died, and everything was silent again.

"Saria?"

The Kokiri wheeled around, startled by the sudden sound of her name. Mido approached her with fright and doubt in his face. "I wanted to see if everything was right. What happened? Who is she?"

"I don't know," the girl said. "But we must get her to the Great Deku Tree!"

***

_O Dyni fair, upon your hair a crown of gold I set_

_Among the bliss, thy tomb now is and sore you may forget_

_O Dyni strong, your path was long but hope you did not lost_

_Your friend you wept, but you still kept your nerve as cold as frost!_

_O Dyni brave, as shadows wave you risk your life for him_

_But now you die, in sleep you lie and death makes beauty dim._

_O Dyni dead, upon your head your hair shall not decay_

_Your beauty stills, like stones on hills and I shall death delay!_

_ _

So sang the Deku Tree softly as the lady Dainúviel was covered under a mantle of blossomed flowers that Saria had kept for a special occasion. The grass that grew over her tomb was always green thereafter, whether autumn felled the leaves or winter whitened her mound deep within the Lost Woods. The Kokiri children stared at the lady's grave and were silent. Saria held the baby boy in her arms, and Mido sat on the ground in deep thought. The woods were silent and still as always.

The voice of the Deku Tree was heard again, flying and carried by the wind that blew quietly from his meadow. It was sad and heavy, but the words were quite clear. _Thus passeth the lady Dainúviel of the House of the Hylia. Such deeds as she performed cannot be wholly forgotten, though. I shall honour my word and keep her body uncorrupted. The claws of death shall not take her beauty and loveliness away from this world._

__The Deku Tree went silent for a while and then continued, _As for her child, I bid ye all Kokiri to raise him and love him as one of ye. I forsee that this child shall forge the fate of many in the years to come. His name is Link of the Hylia. His ancestry and kin shall remain secret until I deem the time ripe for him to know._

__He went silent again, but the wind did not die with his voice. Instead, another voice was heard in it, and it was crying. But its weeps died out quickly, and the Kokiri heard a grave woman's voice speaking to them. _Please, take my child… For I cannot any longer…_

__The Kokiri gazed about them and wondered where could the voice have come. But Saria nodded slightly her head and looked at Mido who was standing up and returning her sight. Both of them understood.

"Do not worry, lady," Saria said softly, almost to herself. "The Forest is safe."

A. N. Yep this is it. For the record, the first song is an alteration of the original song by Lennon/McCartney, the second song is the original work of Diane Warren for Chicago, and the last one is all mine. See ya!


	5. The Immortals, the Halfelven and the Dae...

Disclaimer: I owe not the Legend of Zelda in any way.

A. N. There's a new title for this fic. Also, I modified its content to make it look as a lost tale rather than an ancient scroll. I'm currently working on my Sindarin so if any of you notice slight mistakes don't send the inquisition to my house! _Lasto nim beth a Sindarin?_

The Immortals, the Half-elven and the Daeridhrim.

_Malon sat heavily on the small bench leaning to the wall and sighed. Link was late again! She felt disappointed by her friend who had promised to be on time for this occasion: her birthday. Having no other close friend, the young woman felt especially bound with the young knight, and his absence made her feel somewhat lonely._

_Trying to move her mind away from thinking of what would she say to Link when he arrived, she looked about her in the town inn. In a small wooden table a few feet away she noticed an old set of scrolls with a small ribbon binding them together. With keen curiosity, the red-haired stood up and walked to the bench near the table. After sitting down and looking about her again, she took the parchments and untied the ribbon. Within its folds there was a small card with a single phrase: Happy Birthday. Smiling, she unrolled the scrolls and read the following Tale:_

__'Long ago, ere the fierce wars ever wounded the realm, ere the Alliance of the people of Hyrule, ere the waning the Sheikah, ere the forging of the Master Sword, when the World was young still but already ripe the Hylia were still a numerous people and dwelled in various places of the world. Hyrule was but a small land where there lingered a few of these great people, although most of them were of high lineage. 

'Young though it was, the World had already seen conflicts in distant parts. They are not wrong the words of a wise man of the Hylia "_War is as old as life itself"_ thus, and that was soon found out even in the peaceful and powerful mark of Hyrule. Fell creatures of many kinds began to plague and infest many a fair place in the world and the first realm of the Hylia was not an exception. Wolves of great size called Wolfos by the Hylia and Wargs by other peoples appeared for the first time and ravaged the land near the Lost Woods and the entrance to Zora's River. Not even the wood could held out these evils that had suddenly appeared in the World. Along with the Wolfos, and after some years had come to pass, many plagues arose in the realm and all the races but the Hylia suffered greatly from this new evil. The plague lasted for three years and it was rumored to have come from the east, away from the Lost Woods. By this time, the Hylia had felt pity stir in their hearts and had come back to their land offering aid to the peoples of the realm. It was so that the Hylia returned timely to their own land, protected by the wood when the greatest evil the Word has ever known struck. The wolfos had been but hunted down and the plague was waning with haste when this third great evil came to pass and arrived to Hyrule. Feller creatures known as goblins in some parts but called Orcs in the rest invaded the realm in great number, thinking that the fewness of number that dwelled there would not show great an opposition against them. After being left without space in their eastern lands, an immense host of these vile creatures set forth from Middle-earth to Hyrule; victory, they deemed, would be swift and complete.

'To their dismay and wrath, the realm was the place of linger in those days of the great part of the Hylia, and the short and easy war they had planned became a long and deadly conflict that lasted many a long year therefore.

'By this time it was that the Sheikah first appeared as shadows of the Hylia. They came in the form of strange Hylians always clad in dark blue and black. Their traits were as none of the Hylia, as they were stouter, stronger, with quickness in their movement and silence. They were of strange silvery-white hair and red eyes, though it happened that sometimes a golden-haired Sheikah could be seen amidst his folk. The Shadow-folk, as they came to be known guarded the Hylia and most dearly the high lords against the Orcs in those dark years. The Sheikah were known, thus, as the Daeridhrim, for it was their custom to not appear ever in open spaces or bright. Their skill in arms was surpassed only by the ancient elven-lords of distant lands, and so it was that the Orcs came to fear the very chance of a Sheikah warrior blending in the darkness about them.

'I came to pass that for a final battle with the goblins, the Hylia summoned all of their strength, which was but waning after long years of savage fighting, and called for the Sheikah to join in battle. To their surprise, for it was not of the liking of many a Sheikah to be exposed during daylight and in open warfare, the Daeridhrim agreed and sent many warriors to the aid of the Fair Kindred. They marched out of the shadows under the lead of one of the greatest captains of the ages: Romahil Sword-arm. He was a mighty Sheikah that held a great hatred to the Orcs and sought to slay every goblin in the realm until cleansed.

'One of the greatest surprises came during the Sheikah's march to the outer fields of Hyrule. Crossing the Lost Woods were they when Romahil sent a scout ahead of the host when he deemed the forest-path to be almost over. The scout, by coincidence or by the captain's will, was none other than Romahil's own brother, whose name is not recorded hither nor elsewhere. When his kinsman had left, Romahil turned to his folk and spoke these words to them:

'"It is now come the time when we drive out any remaining rat-folk. For our brothers that have fallen before their black and stained scimitars we must now destroy this host. Whoever falls in this battle to come shall be called my brother mattering not his age or lineage. Let us hunt some Orc!''

'A great clamour answered his words and the Shadow-host carried on with their road. As for the scout sent by the Shadow-leader, he had rode far ahead into the woods and was about to turn back when a voice, he thought, sang deep within the southern wood. As he approached he heard more than one in a clearing not far away. With all the stealth he could muster, he hid behind an oak-tree and gazed in wonder at the beings who sang so fairly.

_A! Elbereth Gilthoniel!_

___Silívren penna míriel_

_O mennel aglar elanath_

___Gilthoniel! A Elbereth!_

_ _

'For out of despair and into hope's renewing he saw a great host of none other than the Fair Folk, the Elves. But he was unsure, and his heart was in great doubt. The Sheikah are so sleek and silent that not even the Elves can perceive them when they blend with the shadows. Thus, he crept into the lord's pavilion and there saw him writing down in the fair tongue of the Sindar. After revealing himself to the lord, the scout learned that the Elves were here to aid the folk that was called the Hylia in repayment of many favors in the lands away from Hyrule. With joy now in his heart, the Sheikah scout returned to his kindred to inform about this.

'When Romahil learned this he was full of joy also and ordered his host to hasten to the Hylia, then not very far away. When they finally arrived to the other side of the wood and joined the Hylia, Romahil informed the Lord of Hyrule of these events. Hope was kindled anew in every Hylian's heart and song filled the air about them.

_When spring is come and gone is moon_

_And shades have passed away_

_When tidings glad are come ere noon_

_That Elves shall join the day_

_When Shadow-folk have crossed the wood_

_And hope is thus anew_

_We shall go forth_

_And for our lands_

_The claim we shall renew._

_ _

__'It was not long ere the Hylia had learned about them when the Elves appeared out of the wood. Thus it was that the Elven-lord met with the Lord of the Hylia and were glad. But one of the Elven-minstrels that accompanied the lord looked at one of the Hylia's figure and was confused. For he seemed Elvish to him and yet he was mortal, just like the Edain from their own lands. But he suddenly thought of a possibility.

'"Could it be," he said to the Lord of the Hylia, "that the Hylia are an unknown form of _Peredhil_?"

'"Peredhil?" asked the Hylian Lord. "What might a Half-elven be in your fair tongue? For amongst us there is no word that might carry a alike meaning.

'"The Half-elven are the children of Lúthien that dwell alike in mortal lands as in the Undying lands. You kindle in my mind the memory of these fair beings for you are Elven-wise and fair, and yet you are mortal."

'The Lord had no answer to that, knowing that his creation legend stated that the Golden Goddesses had created them and all life forms. The Elf sensed his waver and did not inquired anymore, and soon was forgotten the matter.

'The next day was the day of the battle. The Orcs had gathered all of their remaining folk in a last attempt to overtake Hyrule and destroy the Hylia. So it was that their numbers had swollen and their host filled the fields outside the Lost Woods. The Sheikah were the first to charge, with many Elven-bowmen shooting at the bewildered Orcs, for it seem to them great wizardry that their enemies had grown in number suddenly and within a few weeks. But the presence of Elves, whom they hate above all, made them fierce and wild. The first charge was overthrown with loss by the Sheikah, and Romahil retired to a groove dragging with him many goblins. The Elves gathered about the standard of the Lord of the Hylia and let fly a great number of fletched arrows against their enemies, slaying many an Orc even before the fell race had the chance to strike the Hylia. When the arrows were but spent the Hylia launched an assault to the front-lines of the goblins with many spear-soldiers leading. They pierced their ranks and scattered the frontlines, but they could not reach their leader.

'Fortune was turning ill for the Hylia and the Elves now; many a fair elf and Hylian lay on the field now. The Orcs jeered and shouted in fervor seeing victory at hand, when coming from the groove, furious but strong, the Daeridhrim charged again at them. There was a great din of arms in clash and a long and dreadful battle until Romahil himself slew the last of the Orcs chieftains with his steelring-covered hands, having lost his rapier to a foe in battle. 

'Afterwards, the Orcs were piled in a great pit and set on fire to relieve the land of such a fell flesh to be rotten. But victory was the only comfort the Hylia could get, for many of the ancient race of Hyrule had fallen in the field, along with many fair Elves that would have lived many ages merrily in their homelands. The Sheikah, being skilled in weapons above the others, had not taken so much losses. But being fewer in number also, they were reduced very much. Romahil had lost his sister back in Hyrule during an invasion of wolfos to his village and now his brother had been slain during the first retreat and his father was not among the living when the battle was over. He was in great grief and was sorely hurt, if only in his heart.

'After the Elven-host had bidden friendship and farewell to the Hylia, the Lord proclaimed the isolation of the small realm forever. He appointed a great choice to the remaining Hylia of returning to their homeland or to remain in other parts in the word forever. To his misfortune, many chose to dwell outside of the realm and to return in exile elsewhere. The few that remained with the Lord were not of high lineage and so it is that the Royal family of Hyrule is the only remaining Hylia in the world able to claim heritage from the Lord of the Hylia. The Host of Hyrule returned, along with the Sheikah, to their homeland.

'Thus it was, that on the very noon of a fair day of spring the last host of the Hylia crossed the threshold of the Lost Woods to the east and emerged to the rule of the realm. The other races rejoiced and celebrated their coming with great clamour and joy. But to the surprise of the very Hylia, the Sheikah disappeared from the land and showed not to any of the celebration. The now appointed King of Hyrule called the Sheikah guardians of the realm and declared perpetual alliance between them and the Hylia; and the Sheikah learned of this and accepted the honour, though they never again showed themselves among the realm like they used to do ere the great evils.

'After the Host of the East had come out of the wood, Romahil led his people to unknown lands within Hyrule and made their dwellings there, although they claimed a small land at the skirts of Death Mountain as their own, thus founding Kakariko. When the Sheikah had grown in peace and numbers again, Romahil laid down his charge and left the realm for many years. How he crossed the barriers that separated Hyrule from the rest of the world, none can tell. But it was clear afterwards, when he returned, that he had been in foreign lands and had beheld the Great Sea. But the loss of his family grieved him and he could find no comfort in any part of the world. The Sword-arm became a legend of might among the Sheikah, and he was honoured even if he was not there to receive the honour. His close friends, the few he called so, could only guess that he would return soon. And though he returned as foreseen, it was not soon at all. For many years had passed since the Hylia had returned to Hyrule, and the King of Hyrule had died some time ago. When Romahil appeared one day in the middle of a Sheikah encampment away from Kakariko the moon was full, and the Sheikah were commemorating precisely the departure of the Sword-arm. Whether he returned on purpose that day or it was by mere chance none can tell; many mysteries surround the life of Romahil.

'It came to pass six years after Romahil's return to Hyrule that the fingers of death began outstretching for him. It was his custom to remain hidden within his Sheikah clan for many days until the moon was full each month. He then would come out and sit on the top of a hill he had named _Amon Ithil_, the Hill of the Moon and teach the young of the Sheikah in wisdom and lore. But a skilled warrior though he had been, he never taught any of the children in the arts of war. This made the elders think of the illness that had been haunting Romahil ever since his departure. But none in the realm, not even the waning Hylia, knew the remedy for grief-memoirs. Thus it was that the great Sword-arm diminished in health and pride until he summoned his folk to a last council atop Amon Ithil. And thus he spoke:

'"Some of you beheld me many years ago as the Orc-slayer of our kindred and saviour of Hyrule. Some beheld as a fierce warrior that left no goblin alive about me and hated them above all. Very few of you beheld me as a loyal son, a loyal brother and a loyal friend. All of you had beheld me in many ways, but one; and that one is the one in which many of you do now: as a teacher and lover of peace and quietness. It is thus how you behold me. And you shook your head and say 'This was once a great leader and warrior'. Well I say to all of you: do not be so quick to judge a Sheikah! For I have been through many things that you cannot know. I have visited many places in the world and have crossed forests darker than the Lost Woods, climbed mountains higher than Death Mountain, swam through lakes deeper that Lake Hylia and dwelled in palaces greater than Hyrule Castle. But I have also seen things feller than Orcs, darker than the Shadow, feller than living death and more terrible than anything one could possibly imagine in the fair realm of Hyrule. So I am changed. Yes, changed in my way of seeing things. When I see a chance of battle I no longer draw my long knife with my clutching hand. I search desperately for a way of avoiding conflict and if nothing is found, only then I draw my rapier and fight to death. But death breeds death, and I have had too much death in my life.

'"So I speak to all ye Sheikah: do not look for occasions of war and rejoice at it. Do not look at me as a example of warlord. For my life has been near of being ever-lasting torment and dread. Should you look at me for example, search for peace and wisdom… and lover of quietness. War only ends when the desire of vanquishing your foe is quenched in your heart Remember this and keep these words in your heart: life may yet ail and hope may not hail. But memoirs do not quail and love shall not fail!"

'So spoke Romahil, Sword-arm to his folk on a clear night of summer when the moon was full. The next night he did not show to the young Sheikah atop Amon Ithil. And as the moon waned slowly in the sky so did his health. And the night when the moon disappeared from the sky and the stars shone brightly at last Romahil gave up his life. And when the moon is not waning like the Gerudo but full like the Sheikah, the Daeridhrim remember him and his deeds with the Host of the East that set Hyrule to the Hylians as we know it in these days of late.'

Malon smiled again and closed the parchments. "Did you like it?" asked a voice behind her. Turning quickly, she gazed at his friend's eyes that shone with a special light; Link had been standing behind her, waiting for her to had finished the story, for quite a while now. The young woman smiled yet again and dropped timidly her gaze. "Well, did you like it or not?" the knight asked again. "I spent a whole day in the library looking for you present". 

Looking at the old rolls and at the ribbon, she took her pouch and carefully laid them in it. "I loved it," she said. "But you were late again!"

Laughing, he took her by the hand and after exchanging glances they left the inn.

A. N. Whoa! This one needed a _helluva _a lot of corrections! But I have finished it now. Please, tell me whether the effort was worth it or not in a review. Bai!


	6. An Assassin's Tale

Disclaimer: I don't own anything about Zelda.

A. N. As I said before, instead of posting a romance, I ended up posting an assassin's tale. Don't you just FEEL the feeling? :-P

An Assassin's Tale

Why is it that people care so much for their lives? Why is it that people care so much for their _own _lives? It is a question that has been lingering in my mind these past few days, the last ones of _my _life, mind you. Why are people so afraid of death? Why do they fear the shadows? Why can they not have the wit to perceive that the shadow is a perfect haven for those who seek quietness and peace? I can only repeat these over and over till I can only come up with an answer: I do not know. Maybe it is because the tendency to fear the unknown is deeply clasped within our heart's grasp? Or perhaps it is that many have joyful existences that they wish not to be apart from? Or maybe I am all wrong and fear of death is finally clutching my mind and making me think foolishnesses? For one thing is certain: now that I know I am doomed I do not wish to die. I cannot feel any kind of fear that could make me shiver or tremble though. No, I learned how to leave those behind a long time ago. But they say that fear is as deep within our minds as much as love for others. Love for others? I cannot say that I have never felt love for another, but that was also a long time ago. Could it be that when I left love behind me I left fear along it? Nay, what am I saying? Fear lies in my heart, if not enough to drive me into panic. I fear for my life now that I cannot see any way to escape death's insolent smirk. I fear, I who has faced death's grin many times and have grinned back at her, also many times; I who have showed death to others who have not known how to turn their faces away from her; I who represent that Black Lady herself. I fear and yet, I do not desire to lose my mind. My mind is the only thing I have left, for my heart is also lost. Yes, it is lost now; I had feared that I had lost it long ago, but when I finally realized it had just lain hidden within myself I lost it for good. I do not know if to laugh at myself or ifto look at me with pity in my eyes. Well, I do not know if the bleeding eye is capable of stirring its unblinking gaze towards pity. But I have heard of many shadow-folk that have had self-pity at a time and have cast it away proudly. I wish there were some of those to tell me how, for I cannot feel any pride in what I used to do. Not that I ashamed of it, it is just that no pride can be found (at least not by a sane mind) in what I was condemned for. I know, now, why people fear so much death and repulse the thought of the Black Lady: because they have those who are called feelings, unlike me.

I sit down in deep thought about of my last murder. It is not a fair word, but murder is its name, and so I shall name it. Yes, there I am, meeting in the darkness with a man whose name remains in my element: the shadows. He tells me of how he could pay me very handsomely if I could take out of the way certain Hylian of royal blood that hinders his path. He says that his motives are his own, and that I have no concern for them. I tell him that I do not use to question motives, although his is revealed like the sun at sunrise when he tells me about my target. He says that the heir of the throne and crown to Hyrule must not be drawing breath by two days from now, though I measure time not in days but in nights. He says that the means to do it are of my liking and that he shall give me leave to use whatever I want to finish the heir off. Unhappy fool! If the murder is too obvious then he who takes the crown instead of heir shall be the main suspect. 

But then again, it is not of my concern what becomes of my hirer afterwards. 

I ask for my payment and he answers that it shall come in due time. I laugh at his attempt of being brave as he tells me so and reply that I only carry on with my gain assured. How will he assure my payment? He wavers and stammers saying again that I shall receive it in due time, that he is a Hylian of honor and shall not falter to his word. Why is he planning the untimely death of a Royal Family member if he has this honor? I look at him in the eye and he perceives the small gleam of red in my gaze. I can see his shivers going all the way up his spine. I sneer in the darkness about us. He breaks down into wavers and I force him to hand over the money at that same time. With no guards about and no way out of the shadows, he whimpers a small beg and produces a leather wallet out of his pocket. I snatch it away quickly and let him go. Before he can crawl out I whisper loud enough that by two nights the heir shall not have a breath drawing. He shuns away and I open the wallet and let fall its contents on the floor. None of the beautiful crystals break and I can be sure that they are rupees. The gold emits a slight gleam even in the darkness as I laugh quietly in my own thoughts. I had lost the custom, nay, the ability to laugh out aloud in my years of living. It was but necessary, for own my sake.

The next night I open a medium-sized chest and draw its contents to the floor. A long sword flashes in the moonlight, followed by a Sheikah rapier with its tip as thin as a needle. Two long knifes lay besides the bigger weapons and contrast greatly with them. I often use the knives instead of the larger blades, as the sword and the rapier are the weapons of a warrior. Since I am not one, the knives have lost their light and gleam not even in the white light issuing from the dark skies above me. I then proceed to put my remaining instruments into their scabbards. As the long knives are sheathed and lain still, I look at the moon shining brightly above me and frown, even if nobody can notice it. The Sheikah moon is the full moon, but it does not aid me in my task right now. 

So be it! I have slain before in the moonlight, I can do it again!

After a few hours of striding, I come across the moat of Hyrule Castle. The drawbridge is closed as usual during the night, but that offers not a great obstacle for me. Drawing from my belt a tool that has been mine since I am able to recall, I aim the ruby-red dot that emerges from it to a small watch post at the other side of the gate. I pull a trigger and a chain fires from the item across the air and sticks in the tower. I feel a usual sensation of being pulled as the spring in my Hookshot reloads the chain back to it. I land safely in the post and draw my knife immediately expecting a surprised guard with a long spear. To my relief no guard was at the time watching out to the field. I smile at the thought of the relative safety that the people of the castle deem to live on. Perhaps the castle can withstand a full-scale siege, but a lone shadow blending in itself cannot be wholly expected. I have learned in my long years of assassinating that dangers to the castle and its people can be in the form of an invading army as well as a small band of murderers, from within as well as from without. They can never achieve a complete control of the dangers of the world, as obvious as this may sound. 

I scan my surroundings with care before jumping down from the gate to a nearby roof to the ground. As I land in the cobblestone-covered ground of the market, I gaze about me after taking cover beside a house-wall. No living soul in my sight. I proceed with the quiet step that the Sheikah have in their movement and arrive to the market. Many street dogs run and play and mate in the night at the market grounds. I have always wondered at this, and it has always bothered me also; aside the moon, there were these stray dogs that hindered me with their sniffs and pathetic barks. I become so angry at this that I have decided to slay any dog that comes closer to me than a few feet. So it is that dogs clear out of the way when I wander in the market and that people have found many of these dead in the morning. The only thing that keeps me aware of these cursed animals is their barks that echo throughout the whole place. I think that people cannot tell the difference, but I, who has developed a most sensitive ear, hear the special hate in the growls at me. I heed them little, though they still annoy me at times.

After a few steps through the mutt-infested market I see the exit to the castle grounds. I quicken my pace and arrive at the gate. I can see the soldier fully awaken but bored at his guarding post. Although I could easily stab him to death covered by the shadows, I do not slay unnecessarily, ironic though it may sound. It leaves too many tracks to kill a soldier out of nothing, especially when the main target is within stone walls in a fortress full of them. I simply climb up a vine that runs up the right bank of the path instead. I then proceed to bent over and advance crawling towards the meadow in front of the castle. No soldiers are there and I can stand up after a short while. The main entrance to the castle is closed with a drawbridge and guarded by two heavily armored soldiers. I know I stand no chance against a well trained soldier of the King clad in armour, so I slip away from the gate and climb another bank west to the castle. I then jump down and land quietly, lying on the ground to reduce my silhouette. I creep like that to the inner moat and slowly slide to the water. Making hardly any sound other than a slight waver in the surface, I swim across the moat to the eastern wing of the palace, were the water poured onto the moat from a small stream beginning inside of the courtyard. My goal was not in there, so I come up out of the water in front of the stream, facing it, and look upwards. The regular tower where the heir's chambers are rise from the ground floor up to three stories. Not even my Hookshot could reach out so high, so I sit on the ground to think of a way in. I suddenly remember a door that leads inside the castle across the courtyard just besides me. I turn my gaze to the right and see it. Knowing that it would probably be locked I draw my knife and slide it into the lock. My sword, I reckon, is sharp enough to cut through the knob with an effort, such is the craft of blade-making by the Sheikah. But the terrible racket I would cause persuades me to use the knife instead. After a few tries, I open the door carefully to avoid the creaking of it, for I had used it several times before. I enter and continue through the winding path across and above the courtyard until I find myself in the ground floor, inside the castle. Crossing a last door, I find myself in the entrance hall, just behind the gate. 

Since some torches (thankfully not all of them) are lit I can see the magnificence of the hall. Carefully wrought door-arches are carved above every entrance to many passages that lead to different places. A great chandelier hangs above with several dozens of little candles that are lit only on special occasions, or so I have deemed. A huge, red carpet softens my feet and my step-noise (already insignificant, I daresay) and covers the path from the gate to the main passage that leads to the throne room. The stone bricks are well-polished and the ones about the door-arches are all white and shiny, like of marble instead of gray stone. Many suits of armor from old ages stand besides the red carpet as guards that watch over the hall forever. Some of them bear heavy axes while others brandish long-swords, all very well preserved. The walls beside the entrance to the throne hall are covered in paintings with many themes. One of these shows a strange being clad all in blackened blue with many bandages about his limbs, although he is not wounded. I recognize immediately a Sheikah wielding his rapier in front of a foe of the King. 

I have often thought of the role of the Sheikah in the guarding of the people and the Royal Family. What oath binds us as bodyguards? Why are we obliged to serve the King? It is not the first time I wonder at this and it was in fact this thought that made me relinquish my duty as a guard many years ago and live by what I do now. If none could explain why I had to act against my will then I would just not act at all. In those days I had still somebody who loved me, but I became estranged from her and the time came when I was not cared about by anyone. I decided, then, to live by my own doing what best I could do. I put my training as a Sheikah warrior to my uses and here I am, though I do not know for how long now.

I walk towards the entrance to the throne room and stand before its doors. I noticed something I had not seen ever during other times. An inscription was carved in one of the knobs.

_To the brave feeling, a valiant heart._

I do not understand its meaning, perhaps because I had my mind set on other things. But out of curiosity I check the other knob and read another inscription.

_To the wise minded, a noble heart_

I soon ignore these words, having not understood them completely, and turn the doorknob. A long hallway with dozens of stairs winds before me, ever covered in the red carpet. I silently go up these stairs after closing the door behind me. The torches all along the staircase that hang on the walls besides me are out and the only light that crosses the darkness of the hallway comes from the distant doors above and in front of me. At last I come to the case's ending and slightly open one of the doors. The moonlight enters through the large windows to the right, uncovered with curtains. I notice two passages each beside the throne. One of them surely leads to the heir's chamber. But I must be sure of which one is.

Now that I think of it, who is this heir? Is it a child? Is it already a warrior? Is it a princess? I care not at all about the Hylians' affairs and, thus, I never knew who was the heir to the throne. Well, it was a question that would soon be answered anyway. I wonder again which staircase could lead to the right room. Taking a chance, I choose the left passage and start climbing it. I soon notice a small object lying on one of the stairs. I stoop and retrieve it. It is a doll of a knight. I stare at it. The heir of the King is a young prince I conclude thus. I never was keen to murder children, but these later years have quite changed me. Indeed, I do not care whether my target is a prince, a princess or a new-born child. I just do what I was bidden and hired to do. 

At last I stand before another door at the end of the staircase. I quietly open it without much second thought and enter the room.

A spacious chamber reveals itself before me, with some windows facing the forest to the west. Richly adorned torches hang from the walls, all lit off obviously. In the middle of two small tables and leaning to the northern wall is a bed with many veils about it that seem to float rather that hang. Though the moonlight is very dim in that part of the room, I notice that the veils are all white. I wonder what kind of boy would want white veils about his bed, though perhaps his parents wanted it that way. I start my way to the boy's bed, drawing one of my long knives.

And now come the most bitter part of this whole affair, the one that costs me now my life. As I walked stealthily to the sleeping child I stepped in one of his toys, making not a great sound, but enough to rouse the boy awake. In a split second I gaze down and notice a princess doll with my left foot over her broken arm. A female doll? I look up again to see a figure in the darkness rising from the bed and staring at me. As quickly as I can, I jump forward and stamp my hand on the mouth of the… princess. I stand amazed at the sight of a young girl whereas I expected a boy. As rare as it may sound I cannot feel my knife in my hand by the surprise. I jump to the bed and hold her fast still within my legs' grasp. The memory of the sight, though, still makes me sink into deep thought, almost remorse one might say. A young girl with long and soft hair stares at me with the most unimaginable terror in her gaze. The moonlight casts a tiny reflection of its source on those tearful eyes that look at me in fear. It was then that I committed the worst thing an assassin can do with its target. I return her gaze with my own and for a short but significant while we stare at each other. Without much more time, then, I raise my knife over her heart. In a sudden moment, she bites my hand and I take it off from her soft lips. But too late to do anything. My knife is already on its way down when my hand is hurt. As the sharp weapon plunges into her chest I hear a terrible scream, a scream that carries pain and agony, but above all, utter terror. I pull back my knife, covered in her young blood, and stare at the familiar scene. After having screamed with such a force, the princess begins to breath quickly, but her breaths do not turn into gasps, and after a few agonizing moments the girl lays still, blood still gushing from her open wound. The heir is dead, and long ere dawn of the second day.

Suddenly, a flash parts the darkness, and for less than a second I can see the princess in the light. Her long and golden hair is stained in blood at its tips while her nightgown and the blanket with which she wrapped are dyed in red. Her eyes stare blankly at me, devoid of life I deem and her mouth is open. I turn to whence the noise of the flash had come and I see a figure approaching to me with a long rapier, quick as the shadows.

_A fellow Sheikah._

Before the silhouette can hew at me with its weapon I raise my knife and deflect the blow. In a single move I draw my own rapier and charge at the figure with my knife. The shadow-being barely crouches as my blade swings in the air above it. It then tries to stab me while near the floor, but I lower my rapier and stop its blow. With a kick I fall to the ground, though, and the figure cries in a female voice for the young girl. _Princess! Princess!_, she calls. I have made sure that no reply came from her, though. With another flash, one of the torches is lit and I can see the Sheikah-woman with whom I fight. She is tall, almost male-height and stares at me with the biggest hatred I have seen in someone's eyes. With a wild shout she aims a savage blow at me, but I simply dodge it moving to the right. My knife flashes and the next thing the Sheikah sees is her blade flying and landing on the hard marble floor. I stare back at her. The blade is too far away for her to retrieve it, so she only returns to the princess' side and stands in front of her with her arms in the air in a defensive position.

But it is futile. 

I have no interest in harming her in anyway, and the child is dead. My task is complete.

Or so I think.

A moan from behind the Sheikah-woman reaches my ears as the door trembles with the charges of somebody behind it. The Sheikah must have alerted the soldiers with her shout. I grab a chair and throw it at the door. After that, I grab a desk and throw it also at the door. It is now fast-closed. I turn my attention to the moaning I am hearing and notice, dumbfounded, that the child is still alive. She is in fact even conscious as she pulls the hand of her guardian pitifully. The woman evidently thinks that I am distracted, for she makes a move for the rapier lying on the floor. 

I hurl my knife at her and I hear a characteristic thud as my fellow Sheikah falls with a noise, the knife stuck on her waist. 

I walk hastily towards the young girl and draw my other knife. She looks at me again with horror and that is when I stand still with my knife in the air, stricken in my whole body. I cannot move a limb, I cannot move my hand, I cannot even turn my gazed elsewhere. Those blue eyes staring at me tearfully, with such a gaze of fear shall haunt me for the rest of my life, and I shall never find relief to that memory.

I feel a heavy blow in my back, suddenly. I turn and hit hard in the face the Sheikah who stumbles backwards, the rapier within her grasp. I tighten my grip on the knife and let it fall not over the princess' heart but over her forehead. I feel the blade crack the bone and sink deep within her fair head just ere as a sharp pain in my waist makes me waver; the rapier has sunken in my back. The last thing I see is the door crack open and the soldiers pouring in just to stand in dismay at the horrible sight that must be the young girl. But the last thing I hear is a long and terrible cry by the girl's guardian. As I see her running for the bed I hear her laments. _No!_ she cries as loudly as she can and breaks into sobs embracing the girl in her mighty arms before I perceive no more.

***

Why? Why, I wonder? Why did I have to look into her eyes? Now I cannot forget that stare. It shall come to me to the grave as a terrible secret. I am now in the castle dungeon, in one of its cells (one of its dark cells, mind you) awaiting for the executioner. I have been doomed to die by hanging before the cheers and the insults of the ignorant people who do not know what they mock at. In other situations, I might have been trying and looking for an escape to this tight situation. But the bars are of solid iron, and the cell is well built. And besides that, I realize that I deserve this fate. I now fear death, but I cannot cow before the Black Lady. I shall smile at her even if this time she kisses me instead of only smiling back. But one thing is certain: I will not let those ignorant peasants mock me and insult me. For, though I have resigned to die today, it is I who will choose the way of my death. Those castle fools should clean up a bit these cells from time to time. Beneath my sleeping-table I found (who would have guessed?) a old and rusted dagger, belonging, perhaps, to an old prisoner. I clutch the weapon and stare at it. 

_No._

I shall not die in an old rope hanging by my neck. I shall die by a blade, as a true Sheikah. I can now feel the agony and fear of the young princess whose life I took untimely. I honorably shall beg her forgiveness in a short while when I join the dead. 

I hear the hinges creak and the dungeon door opens. I quickly take the old blade and sink it deep within my chest. I feel terrible pain as the blade pierces something soft within me.

Who would have thought of it? I still have a heart after all.

A. N. Quite dark, eh? I think it's the darkest fic I've written.

Leave your comments, please, after this Tale. I especially want to know what do you think of this one, as this is my first really, really dark fic that I tried to write elegantly.


	7. The Swan Fleet and the fall of Ikana

A. N. No one talks much about Termina's own history. Everyone is focused only in completely original fics about OoT's characters. I think there should be more fics about more gaps and times other than OoT. Don't you think so?

The Swan Fleet and the fall of Ikana

The king woke early in the morning, when the sun had not yet reached the darkened gullies of Ikana Canyon. He rose and walked to the window leading to the west, across the small village of Clockville, to the Great Bay, to the sea. He gazed deeply into the waters, visible in his mind, many miles away from his own castle. Although far away from the coasts, Fargos du Ikana thought he could hear the chants of the mermaids already singing a lament for the sea. The dark forests and long plains that covered the lands between Ikana and the sea held not trees tall enough to hinder the sight of the mighty king of the canyon. His stare strayed towards the unseen fortress of the pirates to the north-west, and in his mind already were the tall ships of the Ikanians with their long sails and their great swans carved at the wooden bow of each vessel. He could also see the wind flowing across the stern just to be caught in the white sails forcing them to lift and push the ship forth into its destination, whether it was a small transport ferry or a large flag-ship with many sailors and arms ready to board and capture the enemy vessel in the name of Ikana. The king could also envision the greatness of the land army of his kingdom, keeper of order and peace throughout the lands of Termina. The bright helms always flashed in the light and the long and stout spears had more than once gleamed in the sunlight of distant lands in the quelling of an enemy of the crown. Time and again the legions of Ikana had cloven the rabbles of rebel resistance like a sharp knife through butter. In those times, the two silver double-edged swords crossed upon red rode to battle above the king as his standard, and the soldiers felt great valour in their heart and fought gladly and proudly for the glory of Ikana. With the best craft in weapon forging and the finest captains of the country, the royal army held under dominion of the eastern crown a great part of Termina, the land at the edge of the sea. Claming their own government and refusing to subjugate to the Ikanian kings, though, there had been once the Gorons to the north and the Pirates to the west, who held the wide coastlands and troubled the ships that sailed from Zora Cape to the lands unseen beyond the horizon. But It had already come to pass, to the relief of many, that after many battles under the harsh climate of the Snowhead's skirts, the Ikanians had overrun the mountains and had forced the Gorons to swear allegiance to the king, although the pirates had remained ever as a threat to the Terminian lands.

The king turned away from the window and went to his dressing gown. After a short while, he emerged from his chambers and went forth to his hall. All guards bowed before him with their left hand on the hilt of their swords and their right hand on their hearts. Up in his hall, the king sat in his throne and nodded his head between his shoulders, as in contemplation of a foresight. But in his mind only flashed the scenes of a yet to come battle with the pirates over the waters of the Great Bay. For out of insolence the corsairs had utterly rejected the last of the ambassadors sent by Ikana and had slain him and hewn him even after his death. _But the move shall prove ill fated to the pirates_ the king thought and a smile appeared in his face, even if none in his court could perceive it. His standard had lain without the wind for too many sunsets by this time, and he was eager to lift it up again in the air and smote fear in the hearts of the enemies of Ikana. He slightly turned his bowed head to his right and beheld the swords upon red. Battle lust was kindled in his mind and heart and, suddenly, he wished for that same fire to be lit again in his men's hearts. He grabbed for the folded flag and held it outstretched in both hands. He beckoned a guard and bade him to bring a tall pole. When the man had returned, the king slid the flag into the wooden stake and held the standard aloft. With a gleam in his eyes, Fargos du Ikana let out a laugh that echoed across his hall and was heard even as far as the courtyard. He laughed and drew his sword also; the blade gleamed in its fashion and cast a light from the sun that hurt any man's eyes that attempted to behold it. The shadow of greed had been, indeed, kindled since long ago in the hearts of the Ikanian kings.

A few days later, the host of Ikana was already assembled and on its way to the Great Bay were the mighty fleet of Ikana awaited for men to fill the oar-posts, watch masts and archer-holes of every great ship. The Swan Fleet they called it, for in the prow of every vessel the head of a great swan was carved in the fairest way the sculptors could do in wood. There were seventy strong ships built in secrecy and assembled in the hidden shores that are near the Zora Hall. Their craftsmanship improved, the Ikanian shipwrights had learned much from the pirates after some defeats by them in the seas, the very place where the Ikanians were vulnerable. But the strong vessels had been crafted also with many new or unknown techniques devised or learned by the wrights, and the Swan Fleet, the Ikanians deemed, had become invincible. The king pondered of these and such matters as the sea-bound host from the canyon marched steadily through the forests that spanned the lands between their homelands and Great Bay. The monarch rode at ease at the front lines with his counselors close by. One of them, called Mengos Takamir by the people, Mengos of the Hither Starlight, rode to the king's side and spoke to him in these words:

"My lord must not utterly forget about the shadow that has been growing nearby Ikana in the very Stone Tower of ours. I beg you again to reconsider this war and return to the castle lest the darkness flow from the accursed tower!

The king turned to his counselor and said to him with a blaze in his eyes of one who seeks slaughter as a sport or amusement rather than the ordering of his realm: "Twice I had heard your voice in this day telling me about the Stone Tower, and twice had I answered the same: Let the Tower be! Its mighty doors of adamant cannot be thrown down in anyway but by the king's will. No darkness may threaten Ikana if the king wishes not for any. Be at ease and trouble me no more! For my patience grows thin without any battle and you are making it even thinner".

The counselor went silent and bowed his head; he slowed down his pace until the king was some distance ahead of him and spoke in a low voice so that none would be able to hear him but his servant.

"The desire for even more blood is lain very firmly in the king Fargos' heart. But I think he forsakes Ikana for this very desire. I must go back to the castle and tend to the matter of the Stone Tower. Should the king call for my presence, tell him that I became ill with a sickness and had to return to the canyon. I do not lie, for the knowing of our danger lies heavy in my heart and lets me not wield any blade."

Having spoken to his servant like this, Mengos departed from the host and went back to the valley of Ikana. Meanwhile, the king had ordered his army to stop amidst the outer circles of the forests and hearken to him. The Ikanians halted their march and turned their eyes and ears to their king, who spoke loud and proudly:

"Now comes the time when the fall of the last of the enemies of Ikana will come. Many a year ago our grandsires forged the might of Ikana out of hostile lands and chasms in the middle of lands where grass grows not. By their fearless spirit they conquered the lands about the realm and brought peace to the turmoil that Termina once was. By their mighty blades they overthrew the evil that had tormented the very valleys of Ikana and locked it away in the indomitable Stone Tower. By their relentless courage they sealed that evil and restored the peace that had been usual in the lands many ages ere the time of Fargos du Ikana. And now, Fargos shall bid his people to follow him into one last battle to ensure peace and order in the country of Termina and the realm of Ikana. Shall you hearken to my bidding?"

The host of the canyon cried _yea _with a single voice and there was a grand clamour of voices. The shadow fell over the host in the unseen form of wickedness.

***

Mengos had ridden tirelessly from the dark forests back to the castle. Throughout the ride the thought of the ancient evil imprisoned in Stone Tower burned in his heart with an unquenchable flame that made him forget about his hunger and weariness. The only halt he felt he could afford was that to permit his steed to rest and feed of the scarce herbs that grew amidst the woods. The good beast was of the breed that ran wildly in the wide pastures to the west of the realm, where the host of Ikana should be in a few hours from then. But even if it was of the kindred of the west, the steed was weary of the long road he had trotted along for many hours. The counselor noticed the slight foam that dripped from its mouth and felt pity for the beast. Patting the horse gently in its neck, Mengos let him rest for a few hours before reassuming his ride. After a day since he had parted ways with the host and as the wind blew and produced rushing sounds in his ears, the counselor at last could see in the distance the Stone Tower, erected dangerously nearby Ikana Castle. The ominous shadow that it cast in the evening spread across the valley of Ikana, covering the lands in darkness unusual in the country. Mengos hurried to the castle's threshold and stood in front of the doors. There, he knocked loudly on the metallic gates and said:

_A sword once flashed across a helm_

_Another blade fell by its side_

_The cleaver then began to stride_

_To wander at Ikana realm!_

_ _

__These staves rang through the gates and across the inner courtyard. A voice came from the other side and spoke: "What want you that know the pass-word to our hall?"

Mengos looked up and saw a head peering over the high wall and said: "I am the one you call Takamir, the king's counselor. Open these gates with haste! For I myself am in haste.

The head disappeared and the gates opened slightly, enough to let a person pass. The counselor came through and went quickly up the entrance and to the hall of the king. He opened the doors and gazed about the room in the look for someone. At last, in a darkened corner of the hall, a bent figure was sat on a chair facing to the west. His hood over his head concealed an old head without hair and a face with a long gray beard. His hunched back towards Mengos faded from sight his shoulders that in turn hid from view his hood. The counselor approached the figure and made a slight bow before it. The figure did not turn.

"Greetings, Nadoras the seer."

"Greetings, Mengos Takamir, counselor of the king. I perceive great haste and concern about you. What might the reason of your state be? Can it be that I finally meet a person sensitive to the changes in the world? Or do you feel the evil air coming down the Stone Tower? You have always acted for the good of your king and realm, unlike others. But the shadow of doubt has loomed long over you. What want you?

Mengos was struck slightly by the seer's words, but spoke in these words as reply: "Indeed, you have earned your title justly, for I am come away from my lord for the sake of his realm. I do feel the evil emerging from Stone Tower at the time, and I seek counsel myself from the wisest man in Ikana.

The seer smiled in his hood, but he did not turned to the counselor yet. Instead, he was silent for a short while until he spoke again, in a earnest tone: "Your senses do not deceive you, for the evil from Stone Tower is growing and taking its ancient shape anew. The ancient demon from past ages is recovering from the wounds inflicted by the hero who suffered the curse of piercing its evil flesh." He let out a sound that seemed to the counselor like a laugh. "Ironical twist of fate is this! That the demon recovers its strength while the longson of that hero still carries the curse." He turned round facing Mengos removing his hood and lo! His eyes were blank and his eyesight was not, and about them many scars stretched across his face. They seemed fresh, but since he had bore them a long time his face was dark and stained with black patches of dried blood. "Such," he said, "is the heirloom of my line: to bear these tokens of a battle that occurred long ago and to pass them to my sons, and they to their sons. But the line of the accursed shall end with me." And he bowed his head again and cast the hood over his face again.

"The evil that lingers in the Stone Tower must not be set free," he said before the counselor could speak. "The fate of Ikana depends of it. If the doors of Stone Tower are laid down the doom of the realm shall be to fade away and become a land of the lingering dead."

Mengos finally spoke: "What shall we do to escape this terrible fate that awaits out kingdom? Surely there is a way to prevent the demon to roam free."

"The power to withhold the evil does not lie within you," said the seer. "The king of Ikana may still have the strength to hold this power, though. But I wonder of late, why he is riding in a meaningless war to satisfy his desire of conquest? Does he not perceive the danger of his realm? The lust for spoil and unfair tribute shall be the doom of Ikana. Already strife grows like a ghost among the shades in every Ikanian's heart. Petty brawls arise everywhere between dear friends and hated enemies alike. Who can rightfully deny that Ikana is, by anyway, on the road to ruin? Listen to me: if the king and his host turn back and end this war once and for all, the power of the demon may wan, for its main source of feeding is the evil of the lands about it. Yet, if the king chooses to carry on with his unjust wars the evil shall grow and feed of the malice of the land. It is like the sayings of old, _oft evil will shall evil mar_.

"Then I must hurry and tell my king about this evil, indeed!" almost cried the good counselor. "I must reach him ere tomorrow, lest the battle is joined and all is lost!"

"I doubt you shall be at his side ere tomorrow is old," the old man said. "But you must try and not fail not, or else the realm is doomed."

Suddenly, a great turmoil rose in the air and the ground shook beneath their feet. The sun seemed to shrink in the sky behind a stained cloud of red, and out of the Stone Tower a gush of rocks and pebbles fell to the hall's rooftop. A loud, piercing cry followed by a roar rang among them and about the air of the castle. Then it was gone, the ground was still again and the shadow passed, and all was quiet.

"That was a sign," the seer mused turning once again to Mengos. "A clear sign that this beast has already gained much strength." The counselor went pale in his face as the seer's scars began bleeding again; the black patches in the old man's face opened, and dark blood began to drip and to run along his face as tears. "You must hasten to Fargos' side ere it becomes too late for Ikana." Nadoras spoke aloud these words as Mengos darted out of the hall and onto his trusty steed. The sun in the blue sky shone with a slightly lesser brightness, as if pierced and wounded.

***

The host of Ikana Canyon had now reached the wide clearing of grass that opened before the last trees of the forest. The king ordered to carry on with the march instead of resting in the soft-soiled meadows that stretched for almost a mile. Many horses ran wild about the field, and the king's gaze would often stray to a foal of special magnificence that ran freely with the wind caressing its white skin. But he would quickly return to the matter at hand. Ever at the front of his host, Fargos du Ikana at length could notice the end of the clearing, with the trees again standing tall and motionless. With his heart again longing for battle, the monarch ordered the quickening of the army's pace. The weary soldiers learned about the order and many disagreed with the king. But they followed his bidding and ere the night was old a mounted scout reported that the sea was not far off and that they would arrive at midnight. With his eagerness burning even hotter, Fargos ordered yet another quickening in the pace. Those foot-soldiers that had walked all day under bough and sun regretted ever having begun the march, but doubt of combat was suddenly put away when a cool breeze blew about them and they felt its smell. For the breeze was filled with the smell of the sea, and less than an hour later, the host stood in laugher and song at the shores of the Zora Cape. The king took the word again and spoke to his men in this way:

"After a long march we are come to the shores of the Great Bay, where the Swan Fleet shall raise sails and the might of Ikana shall be put to a last test upon the lands of Termina. For when the pirates fall, so shall every trace of resistance to Ikanian ordering fall. Their fragile boats shall crash against our powerful ships, and their scimitars shall break asunder against our swords. Ikana had met not defeat until we faced those insolent pirates; I say it is time to avenge our brothers that fell in those dreadful battles that rendered bitter-sweet victories. For, though they died in defeat, their death is not entirely in vain: our brothers' loss permitted us to gain invaluable knowledge in the craft of shipwright. Thus, our fleet shall decimate those cursed pirates once and for all, and Ikana shall comprehend the whole of Termina. Let us rule the country together, as a father and his sons; and tomorrow, Termina shall be known as Ikana Kingdom, the realm of the swords upon red!"

The host roared and there was a great clamour and the din of their arms flew throughout the air about them. The men sang and laughed again, and some of them raised their clenched fist against the rocks to the north, where the pirates' fortress was. The moon shone in her waning stage as its reflection was cast in the waters of the bay, but the men of Ikana seldom noticed this during that night.

The next day, as the sun had been shinning already for a few hours, the trumpets and horns were blown and the host woke and prepared for battle. The swords were sheathed, the shields were unbuckled, the composite bows' strings were tensed, the girths were tightened, the mails were fitted and the round helms were set upon each soldier's head. The king wore a magnificent suit of plate armour and his golden crown was held aloft in his head. His sword and shield were of special forging and lineage, having been passed down by his ancestors of old. The monarch, before boarding the flagship, called for his most trusted captain of army. The errand-runner darted away swiftly and was back ere long with a great man, both tall and proud and with a light in his eye that few dared to behold when rage fueled him. The king turned to him when he had entered the pavilion; and so the monarch spoke to him:

"I trust everything is ready and set, Captain Keeta?" 

The man stood as still as a statue as he replied to the king: "Yes, my lord. Every man is ready for battle, and every ship is being boarded and filled with a large body of archers and swordsmen each. The boarding hooks are all at each ship's prow, only for the men to pick them up."

"All is well as I can see," said king Fargos, and he was glad. He dismissed captain Keeta and ordered to lift the remaining of the bivouac at the shores of the cape. He then boarded the greatest of the ships of the Silver Swan and commanded the captains go forth. All vessels lowered their great white sails and soon the fleet was moving across the shore-line of the cape. After having sailed away from the lands, the oars were lowered also, and the Ikanians set course to the pirates' fortress. Great was the majesty of the Ikanians and great was also their greed and pride: in the head of every swan at the bow of the vessels, the crossed swords upon red waved in the air, and the standards seemed to flicker like a torch against the blue sky of the morning, and the men were delighted. The shores were only scarcely visible by the time Fargos du Ikana rouse from his seat and walked about the deck, impatient for the battle that came not yet. He gazed to the north and his gaze was set on the horizon that veiled the fortress away from the eyes of its enemies. The clear waters of Zora Cape permitted a sailor to look down at the bottom not far away and may thing they could see thus. The limpid sand that the oars spread about the waters occasionally blurred the sight, but most of the time the men could make out in the waters many fish trying to keep up with the swiftness of the Swan Fleet. Many Ikanians even claimed that some Zoras had peered their heads above the waters, perhaps to behold the might of the ships. Truth or tale, the men of Ikana sailed forth and came even closer to the Pirates' Fortress with every oar-pull.

After some hours, the clear and warm waters of Zora Cape were being replaced with the colder and deeper waters of Great Bay. The Zoras ceased to appear and the sailors settled down within their ships with a sterner mood now that battle was not far away. To the distant east the king could see still the coastlands of the western beach of Termina. Some small fishing boats were about its shallow waters, gathering part of the food that Ikana Canyon demanded as tribute from the vassal realms. The king smiled at the memories of great battles waged in past years by himself and his grandfathers in the quenching of the insatiable desire for conquest that was native to the monarchs of the canyon. Then suddenly doubt was again stirred in his mind. How shall that same desire be laid to rest after the pirates were destroyed?

***

And still did the faithful counselor of the king of Ikana, Mengos Takamir, rode with all the speed his steed allowed. Across the arid gullies of Ikana canyon and through the forests that spanned in those elder days the many miles from Ikana to the sea, the man sped with great anxiety and doubt in his heart.The ancient shadow that once had devastated the lands of Ikana was not to be released if the realm was to be still a great power amongst the tribes of Termina. The counselor wished in his heart and mind that the ancient seer at the king's hall were not as old and blind as he was. For he was the last of the line of the hero that defeated the hideous beast of old in unknown ways.

But the seer was the seer, and nothing could heal the perpetual illness with which he had been born and with which he should depart. The counselor knew this and soon these thoughts were out of his mind as foolishness that has to be ignored for a man to concentrate in what really matters. Some say that the heart of the faithful servant was too good and noble to be under the service of such a cruel man as Fargos du Ikana; others say that the man was not ripe to depart, and that, thus, his departure was one most unfair; still others believe that all was but coincidence of facts that happened. Mattering not who might be right, fate chose to act in its mysterious ways, as usual. As the counselor's trusted horse trotted above a rocky and stony part of the ground, a stone was slid from another and laid under the beast's hoof, making it trip. With a neigh, the horse fell face-forward, throwing away his rider who landed head-on over a sharp stone. So ended his days the faithful servant of Ikana Mengos Takamir, Mengos of the Hither Starlight. Painless and swift was his death, but Ikana would have mourned it beyond any comprehension should its people had learned of it. For the doom of the realm was now certain, now that the only Ikanian with a rightful heart was gone.

***

A great shout announced that the enemy ships had been sighted. Fargos du Ikana sprang from his seat and ran to the deck. The men about him were positioning themselves at the starboard with many of those bows unknown in many parts of the world: composite bows, made of many kinds of wood. The small weapons were raised in defiance at the enemy ships that approached slowly but steadily to the Swan Fleet. The Ikanian vessels raised their sails and powered the oars with more men to gain agility, and the white linen-like straps across the blue skies disappeared. The grappling hooks were ready in the shaking hands of the many swordsmen of the king and the sovereign ordered his great flagship to move into the center of the fleet. The stern was rolled, and the ship oared away from the front lines. The enemies were less than three mile from the fleet now, and the Ikanians' blades jumped in their holders' hands. The king sat in his seat again to watch the battle, since his commands could not be heard by any man in other ships but his own. The waters wavered beneath the fleet.

When the pirates approached, the Ikanian archers shot a dense cloud of arrows at the smaller enemy ships. The shafts penetrated some in the hull and some stuck right on the deck, but caused no loss within the pirates. The archers stood in wonder.

At last, the enemy vessels became close enough for the men of Ikana to notice the pirates. But the ships were empty, devoid of any life. In wonder stood all the men that could see these strange ships when their wonder became horror. The first of dozens of smaller ships did not stop when close to one of the Swan Fleet's ships. Instead, it crashed with great force with the mighty Ikanian vessel and exploded with a deafening blast. Seconds later, where a great ship had stood, proud and invincible, a wreck about to sink into the bottoms of the Great Bay lay in its place with a few desperate survivors clinging to the broken and burnt wood that peered above the waters. The Ikanians cowed at such a devilry for short time, but that time was long enough for another of the demolition ships of the pirates to crash and burn another of the vessels of the Silver Swan. Rallying all ships and ordering them to withdraw, the flagship of Fargos du Ikana began to turn away as two more ships exploded at the front and sank to the bottoms unmeasured. Many ships of the Ikanians had already begun to withdraw for the Zora Cape, and many other had already sank, when out of the horizon and unlooked for a standard with two crossed scimitars borne upon black waved at the top of a mast. The pirates' fleet had gone beyond the sight of the Swan Fleet hours ago and were now returning, blocking the exit out of the bay and trapping the Swan Fleet between the hammer and the anvil. King Fargos had already witnessed the sinking of many of his ships and was now struck and filled with horror. Defeat was now at hand, and this time the realm would become kingless. With a hoarse shout he directed his flagship and many other ships of his fleet to the pirates, in hoping for a last and desperate battle. Already a score of the ships of the Silver Swan had been destroyed by the pirates' demolition ships, whose governing was a mystery. The Swan Fleet stopped at very close distance from the pirates as hails after hails rained above the Ikanians. Before the king could notice it, many of his own household lay dead over the deck with black arrows stuck on them. The Ikanian swordsmen in other vessels were already attempting to board the enemy ships, but the pirates would quickly cut the ropes for boarding and mercilessly shoot the fallen men. In a turn of tides that none had expected, many black hooks appeared suddenly on some of the Ikanian vessels, dragging them close for boarding. When the king could see clearly again, dozens of black ropes were pulling his great ship towards its destruction. The despaired monarch sighed as the last of his counselors fell by an arrow and sat back to his seat. His gaze noticed the swan head at the prow of his ship. It had been riven by its fair beak, and many arrows were about it head. The king almost broke into sobs.

So ended the glory of the Swan Fleet of Ikana. The remaining ships, no more than two score, were emptied of prisoners and set to fire. King Fargos du Ikana died as the pirates boarded his ship and his bodyguard fought fearlessly but in vain. The remaining Ikanians were captured and kept as slaves for the pirates, although some managed to escape and brought tidings of their defeat back to Ikana Canyon. Elsewhere is recorded the great evil that arose from Stone Tower in the days after that desolated and utterly destroyed Ikana Canyon and its people. The lands about were diseased beyond health, and the great forests of the outskirts of the realm perished the very next winter. Its people dwindled, slain or lost in the darkness, the great kingdom of Ikana perished by the very thing that had driven them to conquest and victory: desire of conquest.

***

_In his dying moments, Igos du Ikana Fargos'son called for the last of the counselors of the house of Ikana and bade him to inscribe these words that were never on his tomb owing to the untimely death of the servant:_

_Oft evil will shall evil mar..._

_ _

A. N. I really hope you liked this tale. This is one of those that just pop out of your head we you've got nothing to do. Check out the next one, it's one of those that you just don't expect!


	8. Remembrance of Old

                A. N. Watch out for some rare grammatical structures in this tale, I meant to write it in a more old English style. Thanks everyone that might have sent a review.

                P. S. What do you think of the dialogue between Gilestel and Dyni? ^_^

Remembrance of old: Gilestel__

  
  


**_Now the clouds are in the skies._**

**_Night has come and daylight dies._**

**_Bitter cold is all about,_**

**_Feel your blade in your hand stout._**

**_Nothing roams down in the ground._**

**_Nothing therefore shall be found._**

**_Quietness you can enjoy._**

**_Silence is but great a joy._**

**_For those who bow to the king_**

**_That keep order lingering_**

**_A moment of silence is_**

**_For the soldier somehow bliss._**

**_In the shadows something moves;_**

**_'Tis the woman that he loves._**

**_Leaping down onto the stone_**

**_Fearing not to be alone._**

**_Wonder lies within his heart,_**

**_She wants not to be apart._**

**  
**

_*              *              *_

_Lord Gilestel:_

When darkened night is not yet gone                                                       

And chill is air at hand.

When Moon is high and Sun is done

With lightening the land

The time is not yet ripe to come.

Why come you here, Dainúviel fair,

Amidst the wearisome?

_  
_

_Lady Dainúviel:_

When starlit sky is hung above

And cold is grip of air.

I know that time is not for love;

I wish to see thee fair.

Perhaps I err in my doing

But understand, Gilestel lord,

My heart is but grieving.

  


_Lord Gilestel:_

I wonder at your grieving ill,

My heart cannot foretell

The reason of your weary will

That lies within the shell.

I wonder what is grieving you.

Pray tell me, then, so I might know

How grieve your heart I do.

_Lady Dainuviel:_

How can you know? Indeed you are

My reason of unrest.

But still you dare, I deem so far,

To think of this as jest.

When come I am amidst the night

Do not hold me as simple youth,

For I deem my heart right.

_Lord Gilestel:_

Do not yet hold my wonder wrong,

For I jeer not at thee.

I want to know, lady, ere long,

What brings thee before me?

For it is cold and night is here,

And I will not have you to stay

Amidst many a tear.

_Lady Dainúviel:_

When long ago I first beheld

The majesty of thine

My heart was high, but it was held

Within learnt manners mine

But now I say to you alone:

Please hearken me, for you should know

That I came to love you.

_Lord Gilestel:_

My heart is high amidst the dark,

For it has proven true,

In matters mine, that none shall hark

What I shall say to you:

My heart and mind are bent to thee,

Please harken me! Please hearken me!

My love is where you be.

_Lady Dainúviel:_

I am now filled with pride and joy,

For I feel no ill-will

That with our love may play and toy

In evil manner still.

In bliss I lie, for love I find,

Within your mind, within your heart,

That we forever bind.

**_*              *              *_**

****

**_Riding in a sea of foes,_**

**_Fearing all the dreadful woes,_**

**_Hewing down an evil blade_**

**_Without hope for any aid._**

**_Many battlements about_**

**_Drive the Hylians to a rout._**

**_Gazing at the hopelessness_**

**_Still the lord wrought rightfulness._**

**_Mortal wound, thus, he received._**

**_His blade last he then perceived._**

****

**_She was also slain ere long_**

**_Though her feats were kept in song._**

**_Now together they shall dwell_**

**_Within ageless blessing dell,_**

**_Among those of blessing gaze,_**

**_For Hylia was still their race._**

_*              *              *_

Sun is rising from the east, _feel the warmer beams fall._

Wake up along the fairest living thing of them all.

Look about you to perceive, _morning dew like a veil_

Over her face that shuns the shadows into quail.

Caress her soft face and feel, _silken skin you can sense._

Dainúviel fair, who turns the shadows into brightness dense

Kiss her brow and feel her breath, _see her lips as they part._

Stare at her eyes wrought with immense love, as if art.

Waver as her gaze now strays, _meet her eyes with your own_

Feel all the bliss as her lips smile and yours are not alone

Afternoon is not come yet, _time flows not when she is near._

Listen to her voice as beauty flows into your ear.

Sun is setting in the west, _rue that she will leave soon._

Hope for the night to yield the clouds away and show the moon.

A. N. As I pointed out sometime ago, Gil-Estel was a _Silmarillion, _though I had never read it by the time I came up with the lord's name. For those Tolkien fans  that may notice the coincidence I say: It was totally unintended, I had thought that the name was original.


	9. A Cry in the Wood: The Huntress

Disclaimer: It's rather annoying to have to state that I don't own anything but the original characters in my fics. But I don't, so be happy.

            A. N. Here begins the seventh Tale of the Middle-ages. To show my appreciation to certain author and because I liked a character from another fic I wrote this tale, longer than most.  Also, I include a short foreword that has nothing to do with this particular fic: it only shows my thoughts during a snowy afternoon when I almost ran out of ideas for the stories. Thanks for everything.

*Ahem* 

I never imagined how fun would this be, writing short stories about the Zelda Universe. I initially had begun another fic some time ago; I wasn't very good (It was quite bad to be honest :- P) so I decided to drop it and begin once again. It wasn't easy since I had well over forty pages and hadn't even gotten to the main plot, but I finally made out my mind and sat down to write again. I had in mind to write a shorter story with a more immediate plot development; also, I decided to drop totally original plots since they did contradict very much the storyline. I came up with the idea, then, of narrating an event that really occurred according with the LoZ canon but had not been developed entirely in its details. Of course, I immediately thought of the Seven Years between OoT's past and present. But about that time I discovered ff.net and my fan fiction perception changed dramatically. Besides many other categories, I found the one about Zelda and began scanning it with surprising eagerness. After a few days of just having stumbled with this great site I had seen (though not read) about seven stories, all talking about Zelda, Sheik and the seven-year gap in time. I then thought that there were _way _too much fics about this very subject, and wondered at the lack of fics that actually involved other circumstances that happened during the games. I went on with my scan of the category but could only find another two stories based on canon facts, both concerning Link's mother.

                Do not get me wrong: I did like both stories and found them very good; I am not trying to compare mine with any other. But, anyways, I found two remarkably alike elements on both: they were very short, (indeed, no more than two-thousand words each) and characterized Link's mother as a defenceless woman that, nonetheless, remained calm at all times, even before death. I think of people that show nerve before death to be very brave and not very numerous, though that image (in my opinion) is made quite common in fan fics concerning characters who are to die at some point of the story. Thanks to Snowsilver now, I can say this: those Link's mother were nothing more but a couple of Mary Sues, unable to feel fear.

                That is how, in the first place, it came to me the idea of a fic about the dead mother of Link. I wanted, though, for her to have misadventures, to feel fear, to despair, to suffer physical pain, to let her appear to be human in other words. And what is more, I wanted to show her journey from the castle to the woods, not just merely tell of her existence, her name and her child and then state that she died heroically. The rest is history. I posted my first fic in the Zelda category and, to my surprise and rejoice, I got very good reviews. Since it was a chapterless story, I had to cut it into three parts to avoid frightening the readers by its length. I laugh at my occurrence now although it is just a few months since this happened.

                Now, that single fan fic which I posted long ago has grown and extended into this: a good compilation of different smaller fics of various themes. I thought in the first place that the idea would be original, since most fics (as good as they are sometimes) only concentrate on a gigantic story that often do not attract readers because of their apparent length. I want, therefore, to thank the reviewers that have bothered to actually read some of these tales. And to those that may have the tales without reviewing I say: do not deny me the pleasure of a constructive criticism. I really need those to improve and carry one. It has been great to do this.

__________________________________________________________________

A Cry in the Wood: The Huntress

                Maeron guard of the Hylia gazed about him in the uttermost attention to his surroundings. The tranquil bushes and trees of the Lost Woods were known for their deceptively calmness that could suddenly end by many means. Some leaves lay in the ground about, and a cracking noise went up each time a Hylian would take a step in the almost hidden path. Many sounds also issued from the bushes, but all of them were known to the guard; and they represented no peril at all to the monarch at the time. The loyal bodyguard had never approved the excursions the King had recently been doing to the edge of the wood, although no Hylian had been about in the forest longer than himself; the lord of the Hylia was safe. But even in discussions, the knight had tried to weaken his lord's resolve for those monthly journeys, but he King would reveal to none his purposes at the shores of the great sea that lay beyond the accursed wood, and very few could ever accompany the monarch into these perilous journeys. The guard had often wondered at these purposes, which were not revealed even to him, regretting that bodyguard duties would not allow him to even walk along the King when the small company halted at the grooves signalling the end of the woods. Thenceforward, the King would walk alone into the waters of the Great Sea and stand silently and still for a while, the weak waves washing away the sand that piled about his bare feet. After this, the King would stare into the spot where the sun would rise and remain still again. And not until the next dawn, after the King had risen from his sleep to contemplate sunrise, would the company depart back to the castle, again crossing the forest and its dangers.

                Maeron noticed nothing in the surroundings about the small company and sighed in resignation. The King would not listen to his words but would often march on, leading a small part of his household. Among those, much to the dismay of the loyal guard, would always ride the bodyguard of the King's daughter, and in her arms would be the young heir to the throne, a child no older than a few months. Together, the King and his heir would spend the nights in a tent by the shores at night, where the light did not went out till the last minutes ere midnight. The girl had beautifully golden hair that was yet to grow long and silky. Her deep-blue eyes were said to have been her mother's and her face was wrought as if with joy; yet there remained a sorrowful expression when she was not smiling.

                Something shook a bush a few steps behind the servant at the rear. Although barely perceivable, Maeron turned his head to whence the sound had come and frowned. Long years of walking through the woods without becoming lost had given him great knowledge in the lore of the perils in it. Warily, he traced his steps back after leaving a guard beside the King and came to the bush. He found nothing.

                Another crack in the leaves outside the path made him raise his head in awareness. The bushes near the King shook again as the monarch passed them by carelessly. Rushing back to his lord, Maeron got beside the King and spoke hastily.

                "There is something about us, my lord. Set the guards about you and your household and let me walk ahead."

                Trusting his bodyguard's words, the monarch called for the soldiers and his household. Maeron saw with slight appraise how the princess' Sheikah caretaker delivered the baby to a nearby maid and drew her long knife. The loyal guard now walked into the bushes and disappeared behind them. And all was quiet for a while.

                The Sheikah whose name was Impa walked towards the King after a short time of stillness, her eyes gazing about her with mistrustfully. She spoke to the lord of the Hylia in these words then: "My lord, I, who am of the children of shadow, cannot feel any evil that should be matter of our concern. The wood is perilous, indeed, but we cannot stop and tarry uselessly, if only for a moment, each time the ranger deems for us to do so."

                The King had been listening with his gaze straying into the woods; but he retrieved it and set it in the Sheikah's red eyes. "Do not be so eager to judge a man that may cross Lost Woods alone and unaided without being lost. If I keep my trust in him with blind hope, so should you, Impa daughter of Lampa. For I do not hold any wild child as my bodyguard ever, although he be not of the Hylia or Sheikah line.

The tall woman slightly bowed her head in acknowledge, but she was rather annoyed. "Nonetheless, I doubt his skill at times," Impa said anyway. And mere seconds had passed since her harsh words when there came a shout from the rear of the company. The King and the Sheikah turned round and beheld, in terror and sternness respectively, a huge wolfos as it leaped into the air and landed over a defenceless servant. The poor Hylian yelled and hit the wolfos desperately as the creature dug its claws into his chest. Impa sprang and in a swift movement hurled her long knife at the beast. At the same time an arrow stuck in the wolfos' head. The King turned again his head and saw Maeron the guard with his longbow drawn and bent with another arrow fit in it. The shaft flew through the air and stopped another nearby wolfos that poised to attack the Sheikah woman from behind. At once, a whole pack of these fierce creatures jumped out of the bushes where they had lain hidden and charged at the company. A score or more attacked the few Hylians that had dared to enter the woods; but the fair people had long ago devised weapons stronger than claws and jaws, and after a brief skirmish about thirteen wolfos lay dead on the leafy ground. The rest fled howling.

                Maeron leaped from the low branch in which he had been standing onto the ground. The soldiers stood in formation round the company, but the loyal guard deemed the peril to have passed away now. Walking towards him, Impa stooped to pick up her knife and stood before him, her eyes glaring.

                The guard met hers with his own undaunted eyes and said: "You could not feel any evil approaching us because these creatures are not evil. They only act upon instinct and so we slay them upon instinct."

                Impa said nothing for a while, but then her proud gaze dropped and her mouth issued uncommon words for her: "I thank you, Maeron guard of the Hylia." She then bowed and turned away from him.

                Although the company was almost come to the edges of the woods, they had been delayed in the tending of the wounded by the wolfos. No Hylian had perished, even if many were injured with bloody wounds. A few hours after the attack, the sun was finally beginning to wan, and the Hylians had still some miles to go. The King held a small council with his most trusted servants; and after some debate, and much to the unwilling of the Sheikah woman, the King had ruled in favour of Maeron and decided to continue the journey till the next morning. The servants left for their tents and only Impa and Maeron remained with the lord and his child.

                "My lord," Impa said with hope of a change in the mind of the King, "I still counsel that we should get out of these forests as soon as possible. These dark boughs and branches above us may hide from either the sun's or the moon's light more than plain squirrels and mice. Rumours of feller beasts creep about these accursed woods, and there is more than one tale of beings that get lost when falling asleep in the woods. Do not forget, although I grieve at the incident, about the lady Dainúviel and her child years ago."

                The King shook his head and said: "My mind does not change with the passing of mere seconds since my decision. I wish not to hear more of the matter tonight. But since you are so faithful and loyal a servant, I will spare a moment to answer your words. Yea, shadow-woman, there are more evils in the wood that most Hylians reckon. But neither adventurer nor warrior that has ventured to the forest has had the company of the ranger Maeron guard of the Hylia. If you bring him in a journey across lands well-known to him, it is wise to hearken his words. And since he says we should stay the night in the forest, so we shall. I think not you should deem my bodyguard to be so slow-witted or foolish with such a quick manner.

                "As for the events concerning the fair Dainúviel of the woods, you ought to remember that the fate of the lady remains in the veils of mystery. You cannot know, even if your mother was ruefully slain in those same events, what came to happen to the wife of my captain. The arms we found lying in the ground were of Gerudo craft, not of Hylian, so it is not certain that who disappeared in fact while in the woods.

                "So this is my answer, Impa of the Sheikah: we shall spend the night in the wood and I bid you to accept my decision and be at peace."

                Impa bowed and glared at Maeron with a stern look. The guard seemed impassibly unmoved and just returned the Sheikah's bow with another. After the shadow-woman had departed, the loyal guard took his leave and went forth from the lord's pavilion. Outside the night had covered the woods with its dark mists that were enhanced by the looming branches that hung like hideous arms. The stars could dimly be seen and the moon showed only but a small part of it as it waned in the sky. Looking about him, as it was his custom, Maeron noticed nothing queer in the surroundings of the bivouac. With a slow but firm pace, he headed for his tent, bidding a good night to the standing guards keeping watch. His small pavilion came to his view and he was keen to have some rest.

                A great rousing of voices and shouts and howls wakened the guard. Shivering a little by the cold of the night, Maeron rose from his bed and went outside. What he saw horrified him, but he quickly overcame his astonishment and went back into his tent for his gear: for he had seen a great number of wolfos ravaging the encampment and attacking the surprised Hylians. Already he saw the dead guards that had stood watch hours ago with great gashes and profound claw-wounds on their chest. With natural instinct and knowing that Impa would be already with the King and his daughter, the guard ran to the middle of the bivouac and began slashing at the wolfos. Half a dozen had fallen before the might of his long knife and bow when he heard a scream coming from the King's tent. Hurrying to his lord's pavilion, he darted forth and arrived just in time to prevent one of the beasts from entering. Upon flicking the entrance's curtain away he saw the Sheikah caretaker with light wounds on her forearms and a great wolfos on the floor. The King had his sword drawn and stained, although he was unscathed.

                "Why did you counsel us to remain in these accursed woods?" the shadow-woman spat. "If you had listened to me we would already be walking amidst the field of Hyrule instead of battling these over-grown dogs!"

                Maeron scowled at her and spoke angrily: "Do not judge my counsel before knowing the full tale of this. If the wolfos have been aroused it is because somebody went and disturbed them. But let us not argue in a time like this. Stay with the King and head to the Children's Forest. I would have you face the perils of the Lost Woods by night rather than sit and wait for a score wolfos come and tear you. Fly!"

                With this, he ran from the King's tent and rejoined battle. Upon the western flank of the encampment the soldiers fought bravely with the numerous beasts, and many of these had fallen pierced by the might of the Hylian swords. But their numbers increased as more wolfos came from the dark corners of the wood in aid of their kin. Steadily, Hylian by Hylian fell to the sharp claws and jaws of the creatures that howled in desperation at the King's household. Many servants and maids had attempted to fly eastwards only to be caught by the same beasts that roam the hither lands about Kokiri Forest. With Maeron himself, after a hard fight, only six stout swordsmen remained in a circle of wolfos that closed slowly but fiercely. Then the beasts slew one of the remaining soldiers. Maeron gave up to his bow and drew his knife. Stooping and hewing at one the beasts that came too close, he retrieved the fallen Hylian's blade and held it aloft. Another of the guards fell by a terrible paw that pierced his head. Maeron looked about him and realized that his time was indeed come, and that there was nothing he could do to stop it.

                The third of the small company fell, and so did the fourth and the last. Maeron stood alone.

                A soundless lightning parted the darkness about them as it fell to one of the biggest and most evil-looking of the pack. The creatures howled and forgot for a split second about the loyal guard; but they soon howled in fright and rout as more of these lightning shafts stuck on them. Still wondering what could be causing this, the guard charged at the fleeing creatures and slew many with his sword nonetheless. When there was some distance, he drew his yew longbow and shot many an arrow at the beasts. Every one of his fifteen arrows slew a bewildered wolfos until the small clearing was covered in the bodies of wolfos and Hylians.

                Gasping for breath, Maeron fell to the ground in his weariness. The light of the shafts that issued from the dead beasts was waning and everything was beginning to return into the night's shadows. Then, the guard heard approaching steps and stood up as his could. In the darkness he could make out the figure of a person walking with a drawn bow. Maeron was spent, indeed, but his wit had not left him yet and he spoke to the silhouette.

                "I thank you for your aid, stranger," he said wearily, "although it would have yielded more fruit had you come earlier."

                The person laughed quietly and to the guard's surprise a feminine voice answered: "I've just saved your life and you still complain about something? Well, if you hadn't been going around waking an entire pack of wolfos, then maybe things would've gone better-like. Still, ―here the strange woman lit a torch with amazing speed and skill― I think you owe me something. Don't you think so?

                Maeron felt queer speaking to so a resolute woman in those circumstances. "Do not misunderstand me. I am indeed thankful that you saved my life. But I bitterly rue for all the Hylians that now have perished in these woods." And he bowed his head.

                The woman dragged the torch about her and saw the slaughter and destruction that the wolfos had caused. Many Hylians, young and old, soldiers and maidens, lay slain in the leafy ground of the clearing. Many dozens of wolfos also lay with their life extinguished, pierced and hewed by the Hylian blades. Some tents had been thrown down in the madness of terror and lay all torn and ragged on the ground; and the last, brave swordsmen that had remained with Maeron till the end were all dead about the tiny circle in which had been just moments ago. The light in the shafts stuck on the fell creatures had gone out completely.

                "Come," said the woman to the guard. "We can't do anything tonight. Let's get back to my home and rest. Tomorrow I'll bring you back here and then we'll think things out."

                Maeron woke and almost immediately rose from his blanket. The wide, hollow tree trunk that served as the woman's home met his gaze. A small bed besides him was the only trace of possible furniture about the hollow. Other than piles of arrows and a bow and a broad sword, the trunk was completely empty of anything else. The guard turned his gaze towards the bed and saw a simple, thick blanket spread over the old mattress. The mysterious woman had evidently left some time ago.

                Maeron suddenly noticed a small piece of parchment lying on the bed, partially covered by the blanket. He reached for it and saw the note written in it:

                _Meet me at the encampment site. I will be looking for survivors, though you shouldn't expect much. Also, pick up your bow and your sword from the floor. I don't want them to mix up with those of mine._

_                The Huntress._

The letters were firmly written, and the slant did not bend but was straight. These traits of her writing helped the perceptive guard to get an impression of the woman's personality: a firm one.

                The bodyguard did not tarry for long. After having retrieved his gear, he headed for the encampment area, hoping that the Huntress would have found someone still drawing breath. He crossed the entrance and curiosity made him turn round and behold her strange house. It was a gigantic tree with huge, grey branches looming over the threshold. The hanging leaves would often conceal the entrance when the wind blew, making it hard to spot unless one would look carefully. Smiling at the cleverness of the woman, although he did not quite understand the need to be and hide in the forest, he turned again and sped towards the clearing.

                It did not take him long to see the first pavilion in the distance. He quickened his pace, and after a few minutes he was standing besides the small patch of soil where he and his soldiers had been caught in the last night. To his surprise, their bodies were not about and only the dark figures of the wolfos were lying in the ground. Raising his head, he looked for the bodies of the rest of the company, but he saw only dozens of dead wolfos in the soil. Wondering at this was Maeron when a clear whistle came to his ears. Gazing to whence the sound came, the loyal guard saw the Huntress waving at him atop of a branch, a few fathoms away from him. He sighed and walked for the tree from where the strange woman had leaped. With a distressed air about him he spoke the first: "I take it there were no survivors."

                The Huntress nodded and pointed to the north. "I found why the wolfos were aroused last night," she said. And she started to walk in that direction and beckoned him to do so too. After a few scores of feet, they came to a small mound in the ground. It had two small stones lying over them.

"There were two youths: a young Hylian and his girlfriend, I assume," she said looking down at the tombs, sounding almost wearily. "Anyway, they were near a cave that I presume it was a wolfos pack's. That must've been what disturbed them. So much for wanting a bit of privacy."

They walked back to the bivouac's remains. There, the Huntress pointed again at a large mound that peered over the wood's floor. "I came here early in morning, almost at dawn; but I found no one alive, so I buried them all in there. It was a sad view: there were some soldiers about the site, but there were also many maidens and young men who were not yet all grown up. I'm really sorry for what happened." Maeron looked surprised as he saw a tear come down from her eye on her nodded head.

                "You have a kind heart, lady. But why do you grieve so much a loss that had nothing to do with you?"

                "I don't like it when young people die," answered the woman. "I've had some experiences with death before, and I can tell you: death is not fair when she takes away from a mother her child, or from a lover his lady. No, she's not fair at all." And then the Huntress was silent.

                Maeron looked in wonder at her, and he suddenly wondered also about her situation in the woods. Why did she live there? Why had she chosen to become a Huntress? Why did she felt the stirring of pity so strongly in her heart? What had she forsaken in her past? What was her name? Who was she?

                "What is your name, lady?" he asked, almost not knowing what he was asking.

                Without turning her head, the woman remained silent for a while, and then she said: "Many names I have been called since my childhood. But it has been long ago since I actually was named with anything."

                "But surely you have a name you call your own?"

                The woman turned her face towards him and smiled gratefully for his concern. And he could behold, for the first time, her beauty and loveliness. For unlike many women that were considered pretty by the reckoning of most Hylians, her hair was not golden, but of a dark brown; and it was like a cascade of fine strands that fell over her shoulders and hung above her forehead. Her eyes were of a strange colour, sometimes they would seem green and sometimes they would seem brown. Her nose was small and straight and her lips were pink, but they were of different hue each time she smiled. And out of her mouth came these light-hearted words: "My name used to be Sondrael, a long time ago. But most people called me just Sond."

                The guard could listen to her, but barely. For her beauty had caught him and his choice was made.

                Noticing his stare, the Huntress reddened a bit, a thing most unusual in her. She then inquired with a half-flattered tone: "What are you looking at?"

                Maeron barely heard her again, instead he asked, in a most unusual also stammered manner: "Would, would you tell me about yourself? Why do you live in the woods?"

                The smile in the Huntress' face faded. "It's a long story that wouldn't like to remember. Let's just say that my father was a bad person and my mother had to run away from him. So she entered the Lost Woods when I was but fifteen, and she fell asleep although I told her not to. And the next day, after I had been wondering about and came back… She was gone."

                The guard saw how she turned away and walked to a nearby trunk and sat down on it. Being perceptive as his was, Maeron concluded that the Huntress could not be more that a few years older than when she had returned to her mother only not to find her any more. He walked towards the same trunk and sat beside her. She looked at him and suddenly sprang up. She looked distressed.

                "I don't know what's going on with me. I haven't known you for more that a day and I'm already speaking about this again." She turned her face away again and said between sobs: "Go away. Please. Your people is buried now, and you can find your own way back home." And she darted away into the woods.

                "Pray! Lady, come back!" the guard called. "I love you!"

                Sondrael stopped in her tracks and froze. What had he said?

                "Pray, lady," he called again. "I do not wish to be parted from you yet. I want to see your beauty still. Do not run away."

                The Huntress turned her head to him and stared at him with an unblinking gaze. How her eyes shone in the light of the wood!

                "How… how can you claim to love me when you hardly know me at all?"

                Maeron looked at her and spoke softly: "What else might I need to know about thee? A beautiful woman, with a heart so easily moved to pity and such a sorrowful past is a woman I can love without much strife between my mind and my heart. But tell me, Huntress, is your heart so grieved and torn by sorrow that it has forgotten how to love?"

                Sondrael walked towards him till she stood before him. A long time did she stare into his deep eyes of brown. The wind seemed to die away and the leaves in the ground cracked no longer. All was still for a while.

She dropped her gaze slowly but spoke softly these words: I don't grow to love a man easily, stranger. But I didn't expect to meet someone who could read so plainly my feelings. You really are special, you know."

                She then let out an imperceptible laugh, and leaning to him she whispered in his ear: "And no, guard. My heart can still be rejoiced and happy. Just give me enough time." She said these last words with beautiful smile, and he kissed her under the tall branches and leaves of the woods; and the sun was high in the sky and the air seemed fairer.

                And the tale of their lives as lone Hylians was come to an end.


	10. A Cry in the Wood: Heir

A. N. Tell me if you can spot the difference between the style in which the last chapter is written and this one. Let's see if you are cunning enough!

A Cry in the Wood: Heir.

                Many a long month they tarried in bliss under the trees of the woods. The Guard and the Huntress had found in each other what lacked in their life ere their meeting, and that period was full of joy. Time seemed to ease its pace, and the count of days was lost after while. The two would often lie under the shades of a huge oak and spend the day, far away from the Mound of Sadness, wherein the slain household of the King lay. Day after day and month after month they held each other in love and peace until a long-quelled desire was awakened anew in him. For his mind had bent towards the wood and Sondrael the fair, but his heart longed for his city and his people; and above all, he desired to return at his King's side, loyal as he was.

                To this, Sondrael had been opposed for a long time; indeed, the Guard perceived a shadow in her heart that made her shun the Outside of the woods. Long discussions would arise between them in those later days, and often would the Huntress convince her husband not to leave the forest in which happiness and joy they had found.

                "Moreover," Sondrael said, "I would not be apart from the beasts and birds and the trees that dwell in the forest, for they have become very close to me; and since I deem you do not want to be apart from me by any means I bid you again to forget this useless desire of yours." She then bowed her head and continued sadly: "I would have you not to continue with this endless debate that lessens our joy needlessly. For I have grown tired of it and its arousals."

                "It would not arise at all should you hearken to my heart rather than to my mouth," answered Maeron. "You know rightfully that I would do nothing that may set us apart. But you also know rightfully that my heart greatly desires this chance of returning to the castle, if only for a while Yet I cannot understand why you will not let us journey to my city and kin. You say that your affinity with the living things in these woods draws you back. But you hide from me something else in your heart: a shadow of doubt, or fear, or maybe both. Why will you not open that last corner of your heart as I have done so with you? Do you fear I might stop loving you for it?"

                To this, Sondrael made not answer at the time; and for a long while she was silent. But after three days had come to pass she called her husband and spoke to him: "Your sensitiveness towards my feelings is what I love the most from you; but it is sometimes a gift which I would prefer for you not to have. It grieves me very much to learn from you that my fear for the Outside is revealed, against my will. But since you have, indeed, kept no secrets from me and have given me your heart, I shall tell you of my own secret: my fright

                "For nearly ten years I have dwelt in the woods, surviving among the perils and dangers that the Accursed Forest yields to non-faerie folk that dare to enter. As you know, I have grown to love its dwellers as well as their dwelling. And for a season, I had thought that my past, fraught with sorrow and despair, would be overcome by the Lost Woods; and it was so, indeed. But then you came, out of the unexpected, and my life has changed ever since, for the best of joy.

                "But now you stand before me and tell me that I have to return to that malice-infested place you once called your home. It is no wonder that I shun the very thought of returning to that place that caused me so much sadness a long time ago. For my wounds in those early years have healed, but they have left scars. And those scars can bleed again if I should stroke them with memoirs undesired."

                Maeron listened carefully to his wife's words. But after she had concluded, the Guard spoke in reply this that was not entirely of her liking: "It pains me very much to learn from you that you hold such an evil grudge against my city and kin. I do not doubt your words, and I deem your suffering true and unexaggerated, for I know the sheer size of your courage. But look at me, Sondrael Huntress!" And she met her eyes with his. "Already much time has passed since your sorrow. It does not do to dwell in the past, but it is much worse to fear it and choose not to confront it. And you must keep this in mind: should the shadows of your past attempt to hinder you they shall not find a frightened young maiden but a full grown woman capable of standing for herself against the odds. Listen to me: I know for certain that the castle has grown fairer than when you beheld when the times were of war. For you must remember that when you had but fifteen years in your life conflict and battle were every day's news. And it is not so in these days."

                Although there was no so intension in his words, these hurt in her heart. But in the end she found them to be wise and well intended and she agreed with him to return to the castle and dwell for a time there.

                Great beyond reckoning was the joy of the King when he had learnt of his bodyguard's return, for he had already mourned the loss of much of his household in that fell journey across the Lost Woods. So it was that amidst the music and the singing of fair voices the King welcomed his servant and was in wonder at his wife. It is sung that the monarch held a council with his loyal guard that same evening to discuss the origin of hers, although no rumour came of this to her ears. Even the fairest maidens of the castle whispered in envy and jealousy at the Huntress that had come out of the woods; and out these same feelings came rumours of her wildness and ignorance. But Sondrael gave them little heed and thanked the lord of the Hylia for the celebration held the same day of their arrival. The King then ordered the couple to be clad in the best clothes and the finest garments for the night and when the time had come of their appearance, the summoned to the feast were amazed at the sight of the guard, whom they have thought lost; but more was the wonder at the Hylian wife that accompanied him. For she had given away her travel-stained raiment and tunic and wore a green dress of many hues and shades, and her hair had been arranged in a gracefully way so that it fell again over her shoulders, but it was completely smooth and uncurled. Bright, green gems hung from her neck, resembling the forest's colour, and about her wrists were green sapphire brooches.

                Such was the beauty revealed in Sondrael the fair that many wondered if perhaps the Huntress might have been of an ancient and unknown line of the Hylia of old. Yet there were among these guests those that held her in lesser contempt, once her lineage was revealed to be of the common Hylians. The couple ate and drank and were glad, and after the feast was over she came to her husband and spoke words of love in his ear. And she looked at her lovingly and asked for leave by the King to leave the halls and retire into their own chambers. The monarch agreed and they left for the northern tower.

                Atop their chamber, Sondrael opened the door leading to the balcony and was rejoiced to be able to behold the northern woods of Hyrule. And shortly afterwards Maeron joined her and was glad also, not so much for the view, but for his wife's happiness. And his heart felt like if he had done the right choice of bringing her back from her exile. Outside, the stars shone brightly, and the moon would only permit the couple to see but small traces of her face. In that moment, when the Guard closed the door behind them to be shunned from all eyes, a star fell from the skies and onto the woods. And as their gazes strayed to the site where it had touched the ground, their hearts where moved in a special manner, and great desire seemed to arouse in between them.

                It came to pass, on a warm morning of summer, that the daughter of Maeron and Sondrael was born unto the world: a fair child with her mother's dark hair and his father's perceptive gaze. The name of this child was Sondilyn, and they thought that it was indeed a fitting name for their heir. For out of the forgotten days of old, even during Romahil's days when the world was young and the Speakers still came to Hyrule, the stray voices of their fair tongue dwelt still among some of the Hylians. And Sondilyn recalled the ancient voice of _Sond-elen_, star of Sond. The parents grew proud of their daughter as she grew in stature and knowledge, even if she had not reached the age of five years in the world.

                Amidst the great joy and bliss in which the family live, there began to loom a shadow over their lives though. At first, it was regarded as mere ghosts that Sondrael perceived about; the mothering of Sondilyn was indeed ever on her mind. Yet, as time passed steadily, whispers of envy and distrust began to haunt the Huntress. The household of the Hylia in its most part had not befriended her, considering her of alien blood to the Hylia, and Sondrael, at first, had taken no notice of this, her firm character minding not the glares and gazes that the servants would often give. But the burden of unfriendliness was ever increasing in her heart, and after three months had passed since the birth of Sondilyn, Sondrael found herself, for the first time in many years, with tears falling from her eyes by the words of a fellow Hylian. And she said nothing to her husband, him being at the height of his joy, to prevent him from falling in the same sort of grief. But Maeron the loyal Guard, though, was quick to notice her grief, as it was his manner, and at once called for her.

                "My fair Sondrael," he said one night after the servants had lied down and the night was neither young nor old, "what is that which has been troubling your heart these days of late? For I have felt a shadow darkening your bliss, and I will not have you reduced to pretended joy merely for my sake or our child's."

                "As usual," replied Sondrael, "you are quick to see my feelings. But it is not pleasant to disturb you with my own problems, for I did not want to lessen your joy in the castle."

                Then Maeron was filled with dismay and said to his wife: "I had thought that you had already made the vow to keep no secrets from me. And now you come and reveal me, not till I bid you to, that a shadow has been threatening your happiness for many a month now. Why, Sondrael? Why do you keep concealing things in you heart from me? Do you not trust me as your confidant?"

                Sondrael made no answer to this, but rather set her arms about him and wept again, and a long time did her bitter tears fell over his chest till at length she regained her calmness and spoke to him:

                "Do not take my silence as mistrust in you; you know that you and our child are my most precious concerns and that I love you beyond anything in this fair land. But you must know, or at least should know, that I always am concerned by the joy of my family. My grief would have only lessened your happiness although you might have yielded aid in my sorrow. But since you bid me for the second time to reveal my heart, I shall speak openly before you.

                "Ever since my first appearance in the castle, the majority of the King's household has shunned me and held me in scorn: all for the sole reason of my line of blood, which is not related in any direct way to the Hylia of old. Do not think of this as my impressions: I know that you receive no such treatment, although your line. But for some unknown reason, they have come to regard you as one of the household, whereas they see me like a mere Hylian of lesser lineage. It did not bother me at first, but as it grew more and more, and the servants would hold me with utter scorn, I began to feel again that same shade of sorrow that I had thought vanished from my heart.

                "I am subject, therefore, to cruel jests and laughter; and I am incapable of defending myself. For my strength lies in arms, as you may know, not in words. I have grown tired of this, so you must know that a great desire much alike to yours has appeared in my inner mind."

                Again filled with dismay, Maeron cried: "Surely you do not mean to return to the woods?"

                But Sondrael made no answer. Instead, she nodded and bowed her head, as if in shame of her wishes. Long did they debate again, for the first time in years. And in the end, Sondrael had claimed her desire to return to the Lost Woods. Maeron was full of concern at that time, and when the night was old he finally yielded a forbid to his wife to return to the wood. Full of anger against her husband, Sondrael darted out of the room for the rest of the night, and Maeron deemed necessary this for her fury to quell. But unlike most of the time, his heart's judgement went astray.

                For in the first hours of the dawn, a shadow leaped from atop the gate of Hyrule Castle and landed at the moat. And that was the last that the people of Hyrule saw ever of Sondrael the fair, Huntress in the Lost Woods.

                Maeron searched restlessly for his wife during the first hours after his awakening. And the thought of her fly to the wood smote him suddenly, and he was filled with guilt for not having foreseen this event. For many days, he stood alone atop the southern tower, gazing at the horizon clouded by the veils of the woods. And many noticed his grief for the loss of his wife and dared not show content faces at her departure. Little by little, the rumours of his sadness crept all the way up to the King's ears, and the monarch was moved to pity by her sorrow and his grief. He then ordered all those who had shown so scornful a manner to Sondrael to be thrown out of the castle. And it is said that a good many of the proud servants of the King and some lords and ladies of the Hylia were acknowledged out of their lineage, for the King could perceive the malice that had filtered even amongst the house of the Fair People. The lord then climbed the staircase to the balcony to the south and found his loyal Guard sitting on a stool with little Sondilyn on his lap, gazing to the south-east.

                "What wouldst thou have me to do, O Maeron guard of the Hylia, to ease thy sadness? Should I send for your wife to the Lost Woods? Should I bring her back to thee?"

                Maeron had turned his face towards the lord, but he slowly returned his eyes towards the forest. "Nay," he answered. "You should not send any Hylian to his doom in the woods. And that is her true home, so you would find her never even should anyone be not lost." He bowed his head and looked at the child in his grasp. Sondilyn lay in profound sleep, although the Guard could perceive her wonder at her missing mother. "Nay," he said again. "Not ever."

                In his mind, it was thus, coursed these words now and again, hither and yon: _The scars may bleed._

                A. N. Did you see it? I tried to write this part as if some old tale from elder days instead of a quick-paced short story. Anyway, last chapter up in front. Let every comment, suggestion or question you may have please be directed to me in the form of a review.


	11. A Cry in the Wood: Another child of the ...

                A. N. Well, I regret to announce that this will be the last of the tales for a while. Due time constraints, my writing time has been reduced, and I'm the kind of person that needs time and peace to write and proof-read. There should be a new tale maybe in a month, so drop in sometime soon!. I have already the idea, it's just that I can't type it in my current state of obligations.

A Cry in the Wood: Another child of the Wood.

                Year after year, the grief and loneliness of Maeron Guard of the Hylia grew. What great happiness he had enjoyed ere the Huntress' return in exile to the woods he thought now as an impossible memory. The only thing that kept him from going forth in her search was his young daughter, Sondilyn, whose resemblance to her mother was but a small comfort to him. More than once he had weighted in his heart the chance for him to forsake his child and return to the forest, but the great love for his wife was not greater that his love for the child. Therefore, even as Sondilyn grew in age, stature and learning, his father never left her side; and he had some relatives that would often look after her.

                Sond sat alone atop her balcony, staring at the woods that clouded the horizon, just as her mother once did, years ago. A sad look was on her face, although her young eyes were not tearful. So she had been for some hours, most uncommon for a child of her age, until her father came up the staircase and noticed her. Sighing, the loyal guard approached her daughter and asked as he often did in those days of late: "Is there something troubling you, my dear?"

                The child turned her face in slight startle, for she had not heard him coming, but her expression softened at the sight of her father. "Nothing, father," she said. "Just looking at the forest, were you once lived."

                Maeron was surprised to hear this from his daughter. At once his perceptive gaze fixed on her eyes, and she blushed and bowed her head. "Who told you that?" he asked earnestly, for he had bidden the household of the King to tell the child about his past. "I am not angry at you," he said, as she made no reply after a while. "No, I will do you nothing for this, but tell me, please, who told you about the wood?"

                "It's a lie, then, father?" she asked shyly. "You only get mad when someone lies, and I'm not lying. Honestly, I heard a servant talk with the shadow-woman once that you really needed to get back to the forest. The shadow-woman was very angry, and I don't think the servant went to clean the floors very happy."

                The Guard smiled tenderly at Sond's innocent talk. "No, Sondilyn," he said, for it was not of his liking to lie to anyone at all. "I indeed lived in the woods, a long time ago. But I did not tarry there for long. I was needed here, dear, and the King wanted me to come back. And as a reward for my loyalty, you came to me." And he lovely held her in his arms. "And what makes you think that I am angry?"

                "But how did I come to you, father?" inquired the child after her father had set her back on the chair. "I've seen many kids running at the market, and there are many women that go with them; and when I ask who are those women, they say to me that they are their mothers. Where's my mother, father? I don't think I'm different than those kids, am I?

                "Little one, since when do you ask such questions?" said Maeron in a concerned tone. For many years he had feared that little Sond would start asking about her origins. "Do not worry, you are not different from the other children, except maybe that you are fairer than most maid-children. But Alas!" he cried in sternness, "You had to ask about these matters. I do not like to lie to you, therefore it is necessary for you to know." He bowed his head in sadness, and continued: "Sondilyn, my child, you do have a mother: indeed, the fairest lady of all that are not of Hylia ancestry. Yet, she is gone."

                "Gone?" she replied confused. "I don't understand you. Why's she gone? She did, didn't die did she?" the child stammered nervously.

                "No, little one," the Guard answered. "She did not die. She is gone; and that is not the same."

                "But―"

                "Please, Sondilyn," Maeron said wearily. His grief was being recalled in his heart. "Let us leave this for tomorrow. Already the sun has set, and you ought to be in bed."

                "But I haven't even eaten my supper!" Sond replied loudly in innocent dismay. "I'm hungry, father!"

                Glad to have misled his daughter's attention, the Guard nodded and let her go the dinning room. As the child ran happily past him, Maeron stood firmly besides the balcony door. But when she had crossed the door to the hallway, as single tear rolled from his eye, although no sob or faltering came from him.

                That same night, long after Sond had gone to sleep, her father was standing in the cold, outside in the balcony. Long had he stared at the Lost Woods, as if waiting for a sign from his departed wife. Yet the wood showed no trace of change in the mist that lies forever over it, and Maeron stared and waited. But naught came to his attention.

                After the bitter cold had finally won over him, the Guard stepped inside of his chamber. Cautiously walking in the darkness, he approached Sond's bed and set his eyes on her; and he smiled at her sight. He then walked towards his own bed and sat on it, his mind wandering in thought. He suddenly had a vision of one of his moments lying alongside Sondrael in the woods, a long time ago. He remembered how he would lie under an old willow-tree, leaning against it. The Huntress would then bent down and lie besides him, and he would set his arm about her and draw her head close to his. Thus they would spend the day, in greatest sloth and utter bliss; and nothing would startle them, for the beasts and birds would not dare disturb so mighty a couple of rangers in the woods. And the days would go on swiftly and slowly at the same time.

                A slight snore coming from his daughter's bed brought him back from his dream. Shaking his head, Maeron stood up and walked to the balcony door; and before he closed it, he gazed one last time at the horizon: and to his utmost surprise, a small light flashed amidst the wood. Staring in wonder at the spot where the light had come from, the Guard saw another flash of brightness part the shadows. _Sondrael's Light Arrow_, he thought, and he was torn between the happiness of knowing her alive, the sadness of his memories, and the rage against her fly. He let a sigh out of his chest.

                It did not take him, however, long to make his mind out.

                Closing the door, he headed for Sond's bed and sat on it. The child rolled in his sleep and embraced with her small arms his bigger hand, smiling in her dreams. Maeron caressed her face gently and kissed her brow. Sond widened her smile.

                "It is thus, Sondilyn," he said softly. "You shall meet your mother, Sondrael the fair. And she will not have the heart to forsake you again. If it be her will, we shall dwell in the forest." And he slept not that night, but rather he sat along his daughter; and the more he looked at her face, the more he desired to see Sondrael the Huntress.

                "How long are we going to walk, father?"

                The Guard and his child had been striding along the road to the Lost Woods for a few hours now. To prevent from alarming the King, Maeron Guard of the Hylia had chosen to go forth from the city in secrecy. His mind was fixed in getting to the woods, and he would forsake his duty even if it meant to exile himself from the castle. They rode on no steed.

                "A few more hours, dear," he answered. "But shall make some brief stops along the way."

                And thus, after two more hours of walking forth to the wood, Maeron turned to his daughter and saw that she had been left behind a few paces. He stared into her face and noticed her weariness. Feeling pity in his heart, he stopped and called for her. The child came swiftly at her father's call.

"That will be for now, Sondilyn. Let us rest for a while."

He sat down on the soft grass, drew from his pack some dried fruits and offered the food to the child, a light shinning in his eye. Sond, who had expected a great meal for all her weariness, looked at it with a disappointed gaze, but she held her hand opened lazily; so much was her hunger that even old raisins seemed fit to eat. But before she could grab a handful of these distasteful seeds Maeron let out a laugh; and he withdrew the raisins and swallowed them all in a single bite. Sond looked at him unbelievably.

"Why did you do that?" she asked in dismay, the matter of not having anything to eat bothering not as much as the fact that her father had left her no food.

"My dear child," the Guard said smiling, "I know you do not like dried fruit, so I just saved you from the bother of eating them―"

"But I'm hungry!" interrupted Sond with a tearful expression.

"…just to give you my part of the bread and honey."

And to the child's surprise, Maeron laughed again and produced a loaf of bread and a bottle of honey out of his pack. He spread the sweet over the bread and handed it to his daughter. She cheerfully accepted it and soon she had eaten it up.

The Guard was glad that the little jest had cheered her daughter, and waited patiently as she searched in his pack for more bread and honey. To her great joy, she discovered two smaller loafs. After having eaten one and given one to her father, Sond was laughing and singing, and the Guard deemed the time to continue.

The path across the extensions of Hyrule field was seldom used by any Hylian save the King's escort to the sea. It winded from the drawbridge of Hyrule Castle and parted some miles away: one road leading to Lon Lon Ranch, the other stretching all the way to the Lost Woods. The branch leading into the wood had many miles of grassy path along the bare road and had been carved and dug many ages ago, when the wood was not perilous and the Speakers used to come still to Hyrule. 

The walk went smoothly with only one more stop by child and her parent to rest; and ere the noon was old, they began to notice the longer and thicker grass about their feet; and still a mile ahead the trees began to spring hither and yon, and little Sond looked about and beheld in wonder the tall stems and trunks. So innocent was the child's mind that she had forgotten to inquire her father about where were they making for, much to Maeron's relief. 

The young Hylian clasped her father's hand tightly as they walked further into the groove before the entrance. The boughs were drawing closer and the trees grew thicker and taller, and Sond thought that the old pillars of the wood had woven their branches above them so that the sun would not bother them in their walk. The Guard was growing ever more anxious at the thought of meeting with his wife again, for the first time in five years; but he kept his left hand on the hilt of his knife while his right hand was met with her daughter's.

So it was that at length they reached the hollowed trunk that served as a gate to the Lost Woods; and it was, indeed, a good thing to come to pass that Maeron Guard of the Hylia was at the height of his awareness by the time they crossed the entrance. For when they stepped into the bridge, the Guard could hear the little voices of the Kokiri children that approached him and his daughter. And been filled with impatience to see the Huntress and knowing that the children would only delay him in his quest, he quickly grabbed Sond and carried her on his shoulder. And the child was taken by surprise, but before she could ask him about anything she felt the air flowing through her short hair, lifting and spreading it, as she fell from the edge of the bridge to the grassy ground of the forest floor. Maeron was quick to put his hand over the child's mouth before she could utter any sound, whether of complain or wonder.

As the last traces of Kokiri voices were lost in the woods, the Guard lifted his hand. A very annoyed Sond began to send fort a great number of angry words and complains that his father was unable to understand in their full; so he decided to put his hand back into her mouth.

After all had been left apart between the angry child and her anxious father, the two went on with their journey across the forest. The Guard was surprised at the apparent lack of curiosity that Sond showed about their trip to the forest, but he deemed it only to be childish innocence. Nevertheless, only to take it out of his doubt, Maeron asked Sond if she might know why they had come there.

"I don't know, father," the child answered. "I was wondering that. But I didn't know if you would tell me."

"Why would I not tell you, dear?" the Guard asked in surprise.

"Because last night, when you were walking around the room, going and coming from the window, I saw you look at something and cry; and I didn't know what did you have, so I only went back to sleep. But then you sat down in my bed and said something about my mother, and you cried again. Is it true, father?" The child clasped her father's hand tightly in earnest. "Are we going to see my mother? Are you going to show her to me?

The Guard felt pity at her child's light-hearted words and smiled. "Yes, Sondilyn" he replied and lifted her on his arms. "I shall take you to meet your mother. And then you shall ask everything your little mind can device."

Sond looked questioningly at Maeron. "But if you're happy right now, why were you all so sad last night? You're not happy to meet my mother?

"No, Sondilyn," the Guard answered with a sigh. "I am happy to be able to look at her again. It is just that the adult's emotions are more complicated than those of the children's. I am happy and yet I am sad. I am sad, but I am angry also. Anger, Sondilyn, must sound irrational to you, I know. But maybe you will understand these feelings when the time of your coming of age comes. Do not try to understand what I said, child." He said this as he noticed Sond's amusing expression of puzzle. "You have not lived long enough to do so."

Sond lowered her gaze and spoke: "I'm afraid, father."

"Afraid of what?"

"Afraid of not getting what you just said."

"Do not despair," Maeron said with a slight laugh, rejoicing at the tenderness of his daughter. "You shall understand everything in its due time. Do not despair I said! Soon you shall be happy again; but in the mean time, you can ask me about anything you do not understand."

"Well," said Sond, thinking about a question "er, when did you meet her?"

"Five years ago," replied the Guard, evoking the memory of that sad night and the coming of the Huntress. "Five years ago in a starless night in these same woods."

"In these same woods!" Sond cried in amazement. "What were you doing in a place like this? It's scary! And I don't even want to imagine it in the night.

"Well, child, when you fear not the shadows you may cross these accursed woods without any concern other than your business."

Sond felt proud of having such a brave Hylian as her father, and she continued with her questions: "And how did you meet her?"

Maeron let out another sigh. "Back then, on that same night, many of the King's household and soldiers were slain by wolfos. Although we fought valiantly, we were outnumbered and soon defeated. I myself was the last Hylian alive after the battle and was about to fall when your mother rescued me. Out of the tall boughs a bow twanged and a light arrow issued from it, and pierced one of the beasts. The rest of them fled, but I shot a few with my own arrows."

"So my mother's also a warrior!" Sond exclaimed happily. "And was she strong?"

"Strong!" said Maeron with a laugh. "She was the strongest woman-warrior that is to be within the Hylians. She could wield a sword as well as a bow, and she was a much better archer than me. She could avoid been seen if she wanted to, and only showed herself before others if it pleased her. She could blend with the trees and talk to the beasts and birds that inhabit this wood, and they loved her and heeded her in their turn. And she could also prevent ambushes and escape from them to turn them against her enemies"

Sond listened to every word her father said; and she was in great wonder of having such a great woman as her mother also. She stopped listening for a moment to the Guard and tried to envision for a moment what kind of woman would the Huntress be. She pictured for a while a tall woman wearing plain walking boots that reached to her long legs' knees, a short knife sheathed in her thigh; a leather girth about her waist with some small pouches in it and buckled with a golden brooch, and from it issued the dagger's scabbard. Clad in a simple green tunic that covered her legs and body, she wore a green cloak about her shoulders that would keep her warm in the cold nights and would allow her to blend into the surroundings at will.

And when the time came to picture her face, Sond stood in doubt. And even more doubt she felt when trying to come up with a name. Thus, she returned to listening to her father and waited for him to end his words. And after he had gone silent again, waiting for another question, out of her young voice came these words:

"What was her name, father?"

"Sondrael the fair, Sondilyn. Much alike your own."

"And tell me, father, was she pretty?"

Maeron gazed at her tender eyes and truly laughed light-heartedly at this question, and he kissed Sond's brow.

"Pretty?" he asked with fake scorn. "Pretty is not the just word for her loveliness; and beautiful is just a shadow of the right word that should describe her. Beautiful, lovely, filled with radiance, reliever of pain, fairer than a flower, I can only think as much. Yet, I deem that there are no words to describe her. A smile from her is a cool wind on the sun, a tear from her eye is like a precious gem that is rarely found, a breath of her voice is pure fairness flying into your ear, a kiss from her lips is the cure to all maladies, a wave of her hand is a beloved gesture of beckoning, a song from her throat is the light of a devoid soul and a gaze from her eyes is enough to make you love her desperately.

"And what is more: the maiden that I met so long years ago was sorrowful and yet moved easily to compassion; indeed, she would not let the young lovers lying on the cold, hard lands. And her pity would move her to deeds not of her concerning; again, she would raise the Mound of Sadness to prevent the bodies of the fair Hylians from being defiled by carrion beasts in the wood. Although her suffering she would not break before words, and she withstood the harsh sentences thrown at her for the sake of her husband and her child, if not forever.

"So you ask if she was pretty. Well, Sondilyn, my answer is this: no, dear child, she was not pretty; she was not beautiful either: her fairness is beyond any words.

Sond felt her heart high amidst the boughs.

In these and such words they spent midday and part of the afternoon. And when light was beginning to redden the colour of the sky weariness was at last creeping into the Guard. At length, they came before a great dead tree that stood sadly in the middle of a small clearing. With a shout of mixed emotions, Maeron ran for it and swung the leaf-curtain away from the entrance; and he gave another shout, but this time it was only of anger and wonder. After having found the old tree were the house of the Huntress had been nested, Maeron had found nothing at all, to his greatest disappointment. The tree had been seemingly abandoned for many a month now, and the only thing that the loyal Guard uncovered from the dust lain all over the place was an old leather quiver, three arrows still kept inside.

The Guard sat down in the floor and crossed his legs. Sondilyn came in hurrying to tell her father about the greatness of the tree in which they were. But when she saw her father on the ground with anger issuing from him like heat out of a tempered sword, she spoke not and stood in silence.

Long was the while in which Maeron sat in deep thought and anger, for the departure of the Huntress had been unexpected and swift, and now the last hope of finding had been vanished. Indeed, fear and discontent swarmed over the Guard's heart; Sond would never meet her mother after all. Yet, hope dies last; and Maeron stood up suddenly, turning round in search for his daughter. Great was the tenderness that met his eyes, for little Sond had grown tired of walking and waiting and had curled on the floor and fallen asleep. With great care, he shook her gently and the child awoke, her eyes still blinking in the twilight.

"Why's my mother not here, father?" she asked simply, but Maeron could not contain a tear from falling out of his eye. 

"Because she will not meet you ever, Sondilyn," he answered, and kneeled to hold the child in his arms. Sond set her small arms about her father and spoke quietly:

"It's alright, father. I don't want to meet her anymore. If she doesn't love you, or me, then I won't love her back. I don't want to meet her anymore; please, let's got back home."

The Guard felt great sadness in his heart, but he smiled and kissed her. "So it shall be, little one," he answered. "I shall take you back to the castle and make of you a great shield-maiden, forgetting all memory of the wife that I once had espoused; though I hope not that the skills that She possessed be passed onto you."

And they faced the entrance, ever concealed under the leaves, and went forth from the tree-house and the last memory of Sondrael the fair, Huntress in the Lost Woods.

"What's that, father?" Sond asked frightened, as she perceived a waver in some bushes in front of them.

Maeron stood as still as stone and did not utter a word. Before she could repeat her question, her father gently placed her hand on her mouth to silence her. He then took it of and slid his finger to his lips, bidding her to remain silent. The bush shook again slightly and Maeron saw with the utmost horror a hairy tail peering outside of the leaves. A pair of yellow eyes glowed from the shadows of another nearby hollow tree, and a growl was heard by parent and child. Sond felt a chill fear smite her heart, and tears blurred her sight.

"Listen to me," said the Guard earnestly to Sond. "When I tell you to, you must run with all your heart and soul towards that big willow with so many braches. Listen to me!" The little child had begun to weep out of fear at her father's words. "You have to run as swiftly as you young legs allow you to. You have to climb that tree and remain there until I come back to take you."

"Father!" cried Sond terrified. "What's going on? What's there on the bushes and the tree? Where are you going?"

"Listen to me, Sondilyn!" he said again. "It is a pack of wolfos, and they shall not let us go in peace; therefore, I shall slain them all."

"No!" she cried again. "Don't kill anyone! Please, don't be mad at them. Let's just go away and leave them alone."

"Sondilyn Maeron's daughter!" he said loudly. "Heed my order, child. I must leave you, but I shall return. You do not understand: each time I have dealt with wolfos evil comes afterwards; and I shall not let anything take you away from me! I have lost too much in my life by now; I shall not lose you too. _Now go!_

And with this she pushed away Sond with small strength, although it was enough to make her fall to the ground. Before a terrified child could get up and run, Maeron sped away into the woods; and behind him many howls and growls flew about her, and the wolfos sprang out of dark corners in the shadows in pursue of the Guard. Paralysed, Sond just lay on the ground in utter fear at the huge size of the beasts that chased her father. With a small cry, _Father!_ she remembered his command and ran to the willow tree a few feet away; and she climbed it with all the swiftness she could and remained there for many a long hour, ever expecting her beloved father. And he came back never again.

Maeron ran with all of his strength away from the place where he had bidden his child to remain. Away and away, across twig and bush, and root and stone, and tree and leaf. The day was drawing to an end by the time, and light was waning and dimming about him. The howls were growing louder and drawing closer, and the Guard kept on running until he was at least a mile away from her child. At the moment he stopped, another series of howls flew through the air filling it with harsh noises and sounds that would discourage even the bravest Hylian of the time. Afraid but calmed nonetheless, Maeron drew his twin knives and stood on his guard. Ere long the first wolfos showed itself amidst the leaves of the wood, his snout in a hideous smile-like position. The beast approached the guard steadily as he locked his gaze on it. Out of some bushes, another wolfos appeared suddenly, and let out a howl that pierced the sound-quelling wall of the tall trees. Mere seconds after the second creature began showing his sharp and endless chain of teeth and jaws many more beasts showed, all glaring almost evilly at the Hylian.

Maeron did not wanted to give up hope, but his heart told him that everything was lost. _Unless the Huntress should come to my aid again._

But Sondrael the fair would never have herself shown before any Hylian anymore, so it was her decision. And although her husband fought bravely that day, he finally fell overwhelmed by the creatures that many consider the vilest of them who are not among the monsters. 

And all was over for the tale of the Huntress in the Lost Woods and the Guard of the Hylia, rangers of the wood.

_But it was not so for the tale of their heir._

A. N. Bye! Thanks for your comments! See ya soon!


	12. Dagnir Umiana

Disclaimer: I don't own anything that may have appeared in J. R. R. Tolkien's _The Silmarillion_ or Nintendo©'s _The Legend of Zelda©_   

A. N. Hello there! I know it took me sometime, but now it's done. I suppose some of you got to check out the improved and corrected Tales that I posted sometime ago. Well, this is it: the best idea (in my humble opinion, mind you) that has occurred to me. Why haven't I found a single fic telling of the forging of the Master Sword? Good grief, the subject in up in the air and nobody bothers to grab it. But that's going to change now. Yes, and I'm even going to add a little bit more of Elven-fashion to this one. Hopefully, my Sindarin will be much improved. ^_^

            'nuff rambling! Read and review if you please!

            P. S. Sorry, but I had forgotten to tell you: in 'Remembrance of old', the last song (the one with the alternate verse) can be sung to The Beatles' 'Mother Nature's Son'. Believe me, it's a great song!

            _After spending a great day with his friend Link, Malon had returned to her home. And after telling his father of the happiest birthday she felt to have had, she went upstairs to her room and lay on her soft bed. Staring at the ceiling for a few minutes, she suddenly came across the thought of her father's present. Why hadn't he given anything to her? Assuring herself that he just didn't have the time to buy her a present today, she tried to understand him having a lot of work to do. Although she kept telling herself this over and over, she still felt somewhat disappointed at him._

_            Heavy footsteps came from behind the old wooden door. Opening her eyes a bit, she saw her father entering the room and walking towards her, a proud smile on his hairy face. Not wanting to pretend being asleep, Malon slowly rose and sat on the bed staring in doubt at her father. "You don't happen to have thought that I had forgotten your birthday, did you?" he asked with a chuckle. Her brows' arch widened. "No" she replied. "I just thought that you had just been to busy to get it today. But it's okay"_

_            Smiling merrily, Talon opened a nearby drawer and pulled out a roll of parchment that seemed old; as old as the one Link had given to her earlier in the day. Feeling some renewed excitement, the young woman unrolled the parchment as soon as her father handed it to her and noticed the story's title._

Dagnir Umiana: Hylia's Master Sword.

            'The world is filled with the treasures that the ancient folk of the Hylia left behind as their waning grew with the count of the years. Jewels of magnificent beauty, artifacts of immense complexity, scrolls of immeasurable lore and arms of greatest craftsmanship. And although the world is old now, and the Hylia have all but vanished in these days of late, many relics still posses their ancient might with which they were filled: spells of different uses that only a few may recall, instruments that allow the sound of fair and beautiful music and blades that permit the vanquishing of great evils as the ones that were during the first ages of the world.

            'Among these last weapons of might that our longfathers wrought is chief the Turmegil, the Master Sword for the Hylia. The tale of this great blade, forged with the sole purpose of defeating evil, is sung in many long-lost, forgotten lays, such as the Elves would make. Yet, a small part of them has come to us Hylians of latter days.

            'Long ago, during the splendour of the Hylia, there was a smith who was the greatest of all in his craft. Mirylan was his name, and he was very well known in the high courts of the Hylian lords; for he made a great store of weapons and arms for them during the dreadful war with the Orcs. It is even said that none other than Romahil captain of the Sheikah went to battle bearing the knife Gorgorist; it being a special gift from the Hylia to the Sheikah for their aid. Great was the renown of Mirylan in those days.

            'Many tales speak of Romahil Sword-arm, who crossed the Lost Woods and returned to the Mortal Lands of Middle-earth seeking relief for his sore heart. Yet, he was not the only being to have crossed the barrier that separates Hyrule from the rest of Arda and have come out alive. For a few songs of the Sindar tell of a famous Nandorin Elf that, not in accord with his folk's custom, became great in the forging of things. Great was his skill, though his people never looked at it with good eyes, loving above all the things that are green and do not require the hand of any Elf not Man to grow. Miredhel he was named, and after he was vanished by his own kin he was called Edledhron, the Exile. In seeking for lands to dwell away from his forsaken folk, he came across the barrier of the Great Sea that shuns the entrance to Hyrule; and by unknown means he crossed it and stood in front of the Lost Woods' eastern threshold, after many hardships in the great waters and the lands about.

            'Thus, not for the first time an Elf came to Hyrule ere the Dreadful War; and he found the land as fair as many of the places that are in the rest of the world. The alliance with the Fair Folk had not been forgotten at all by the Hylia, and Miredhel was welcomed and honoured at the hall of the Lord of the Hylia, and his skills were very much welcomed as well. As one might expect, Mirylan and Miredhel met in more than a single occasion, and they were glad; and their previous work was surpassed in many ways as they shared their knowledge with each other.

            'Mirylan had a sister that shared also great renown in Hyrule, although not by her craft in the forge. She was named with the gracious name of Aerlinwen, and her fame came from the beauty of her voice and songs. Under the halls of the lords of the Hylia she would often be called to sing many a time, though she preferred the green boughs hanging above her and the soft grass beneath her feet; she had a great love for Nayru's beings that did not have a thinking mind of their own. Her songs, of which only a few have come to us out of the old days, were said to carry at times the sorrow of the Hylia during the wars, the joy of the end of them, and her desire to find true love ere time claimed her life.

            'It chanced on a fateful evening in the forges of Mirylan that his sister was dwelling for a time with him. And out of surprise and joy came Miredhel to visit his friend and to share more lore with him. Thus he beheld for the first time with his own eyes Aerlinwen of the fair voice, and he thought of her to be as fair as her songs. Aerlinwen, also, saw for the first time the friend of whom her brother had spoken so gladly, and she beheld too the fairness of the Firstborn that are not to come to Hyrule anymore. And within the warm abiding of the greatest smith of the Hylia, an Elf and a Hylian maiden met; and they were greatly rejoiced.

            'Afterwards, Aerlinwen and Miredhel walked under the stars each time the Moon was not full; and Miredhel, being of the Fair Folk, taught many things to Aerlinwen that made her music even more beautiful than before. In turn, she shared with him the fact of her love for plants and trees, and he was filled with the greatest joy an Elf can feel. Together, the Elf and Hylian maiden wrought one of the greatest loves that have existed amidst and within the realm of Hyrule.

            'But there was a shadow that hindered their utter happiness under the sky.

            'For although she desired more than anything to be espoused to him, he would not yield to her (and his own) wishes for a long time. And one night, when her hurt was too much, she spoke to Miredhel in these words:

            '"Why will you not yield to your love for me? Or is it that my heart lies and that yours has bent away from mine already? For I perceive your own desire to wed me and be glad; yet something holds you back against your will. What might that be? Have you grown tired of the lands about?"

            '"Miredhel felt his heart as heavy as his forging-hammer at the sound of these words, and for the first time he felt the necessary confidence to tell her of his great fear.

            '"You know that you are the most precious being over the world to me," he said in reply, and a tear fell from her eyes. "Your heart, therefore, does not lie to you. But why will I not wed you, Aerlinwen of the fair voice, you ask? Because of the gift of mortality that you Hylia posses, just as Men do. For many years I would dwell hither in bliss with you. Yet, when at last death comes for you, what shall I do in my grief? How shall I find relief for it? How shall I abide in the world bereft of my loving wife? Nay! My heart could not withstand it!"

            "But you desire to live forever," said Aerlinwen tenderly. "If you do, you must accept your doom: to endure great grieves and sorrows, but also to enjoy great bliss and happiness."

            "Nay," replied Miredhel to her surprise. "If I would live without you, then I say nay: I do not want to live forever. But since I cannot return my life from the One I would rather be apart from you than to have to lose you"

            "Why?" she said. "Why would you forsake your kin and gifts? Great and many are these that you received for the sake of your race. Would you forsake that for the love of a maiden of alien race?"

            "Fairest Aerlinwen," he said looking into her eyes with the Elven light of his own, "If I find not love, if the maiden I love is to be taken away from me, if I am to remain alone in Arda, why would I want to die not? If anyone of my kin is to live with that, who wants to live forever? Fairest Aerlinwen, who waits forever anyway?"

            'Aerlinwen made no answer to that, but her heart was torn; and Miredhel knew so.

            'Many were the great works that Miredhel and Mirylan did during the time of their friendship, and it ever grew over the years, although a shadow loomed over it in the days after her final words with Aerlinwen. She it is said to have brought hope and slight joy to those for whom she sang in the days of the Great Evils that besotted Hyrule afterwards; and often she would be found singing among those who had been affected by the plague of the last days of the Warg invasion. Yet, her songs carried no more the hope of love but the sadness of bitter parting, and those that listened to her felt their hearts overcome by pity instead of hope. Out of the old days of the realm, there comes one of the songs that Aerlinwen sang for the ill, and that she sang ever thinking of Miredhel:

         _Is there a time for lying under_

_            The stars that shine as gems?_

_            Is there a time for lying under_

_            The sun that lightens stems?_

_            Would there be hope to ever find love_

_            Amongst the mortal lands?_

_            Would there be hope to ever find love_

_            Within the grassy strands?_

_            Here she comes, clad in her tears._

_            Here she comes, to shed her tears._

_            Is there some hope for him to come back_

_            To know that she yet weeps?_

_            Is there some hope for him to come back_

_            To find the love she keeps?_

_            Is there a wish for blissful dwelling_

_            Amongst the Hylian fields?_

_            Is there a wish for blissful dwelling_

_            With love that does not yields?_

_            There he goes, fear shunning him._

_            There he goes, fear haunting him._

_            '_And though she sang a great more songs of which this is but a shadow, few have reached us Hylians of later days.

            'When the Great Evil of the Orc invasion came to Hyrule, the ill were already tended and hale, the Wargs were scattered and the brave were numerous. Thus, the goblins did not find a deserted land bereft of people, but rather a realm that was strong and mighty. But though they were defeated utterly in the end, the Fell Creatures made great evils that the Hylia found hard to amend: towns were burned, waters were fouled and people were slain. Indeed, these Orcs proved to be the greatest of all evils; and they wrought one of the vilest deeds that is remembered among Hylia and Elves.

            'For there came to pass that Aerlinwen was once singing in a safe part of the wood to the north of ancient Hyrule Castle, and many Hylia, youths and maidens, were gathered with her; and their music was a delight to listen for all about them. But a small band of Orcs came from the south-east, slunk into the wood, slew the guards and stepped into the haven. And there they slew also the youths and took the maidens to their encampment far to the south, and they enslaved them. And the ladies went through terrible torments. Many guards became aware of this and pursued the goblins, but could not catch them.

            'When the lord of the Hylia learned about this, great grief and great wrath came to him. And he immediately sent his best soldiers along with a band of the most cunning of the Daeridhrim, the Sheikah, to find the Orc-hold and free the captured Hylian-maidens. Afterwards, he called for Mirylan the smith and told him about the grievous news; and the smith felt doom smite him as he learned of his sister's fate. With great haste he caught up with the soldiers and went with them, and it is said that a great store of weapons of the finest in his armory were made ready for them. But although great aid he had given to them he felt his heart hopelessly sunken.

            'As a strange coincidence of fate, Miredhel was not on his Hylia-friend's house by the time the company passed along, but rather he was wandering in the fields nigh; and he saw their coming from far away to the south and asked them about their quest. Greatest of all dismays was his when Mirylan had told him about Aerlinwen's capture and the deed of the Orcs; but he at once took a sword from a nearby guard, sheathed it as his own and made ready as if for war. So they went on, until they reached the foul bivouac the Orcs had set up for the season; and Miredhel wanted to rush to battle and slay all the possible goblins. But his friend held him from committing this madness and told him to slink away with the Sheikah and free the Hylian women while the soldiers and himself distracted the Orcs. Agreeing, though in fear of not seeing his friend again, the Elf parted with the Daeridhrim and entered the encampment. Meanwhile, Mirylan and the soldiers rang a war call to the Orcs and at once retreated to the nearby grooves. There they held on for a long time with hope that the maidens would be rescued.

            'But in a sudden twist of fate, the Orcs were aware of the Elf and Sheikah and they at once cruelly slew their prisoners, and Aerlinwen of the fair voice they impaled to a stake and left her hanging grotesquely. And in her dying moments, after Miredhel and the Sheikah had ridden their surroundings of Orc-guards, she spoke to him and said: "Farewell, Elven-one. Thus, I shall not to live forever." And she passed away.

            'After the Hylia, the Daeridhrim and the Elf had returned to the Castle, one of the only maidens that died days after her rescue spoke of the hideous acts they were forced to commit and the terrible torments that they had suffered from the Orcs. And she said that because Aerlinwen had attempted to tend her in her suffering, the goblins had tormented her even more evilly, and her voice was ruined forever hence. Miredhel cried and wept in his fury and anger, but Mirylan did not utter a sound and his tears were not as seen as his friend's.

            'Then, after having recovered his wit, Miredhel went forth from his house without farewell and was not seen for many a day, and Mirylan grew concerned by his friend. And amidst the war that raged about him he sought him everywhere he might have knowledge of, but he did not find him; and long was the time of his despair, for to the death of his sister and the exile of his friend the dread of war was added. And there even came the day when his village was assaulted by Orcs, and he it was who led the survivors back to Ancient Hyrule Castle. Afterwards, his despair increased and a feeling of loneliness overcame his fear of wandering once more in the fields. He forsook his forge for a time and went forth again, into danger and toil, in the search for his long-lost friend. Far and wide, and nigh and near he looked; but he found naught and none. Then, after three years of wandering, he had almost given up hope. But a strange reek of smoke caught his eye one day, as he wandered near Death Mountain's trail. Following this, he came across a wide cavern that none had seen before; and he did not know why, but his hope was rekindled anew and he entered the cave with wonder at what he might find. And his heart was high, as high as mortal hearts can be, when he saw what there was in the cavern.

            'For out of the shadows of the cave, a single flame was kindled amid the center. And when he approached it he saw the glowing fires in a hearth, and many tools and many blades lay scattered about the place. And he heard a voice coming from an unknown place:

            '"You have done well in finding my secret refuge, dear friend, and I would welcome you but for my ever feeling of despair. Why sought you me?"

            'Mirylan was filled with joy, for he had heard the voice of his friend Miredhel Edledhron, the Elven-smith of the Nandor. And he spoke to him.

            '"Where have you been, friend of old?' he said. "Long has been the time of my wanderings, and I find you none too soon. Why have you forsaken the memory of Aerlinwen by marching into exile forth from my house? Do you think that escaping from your past is the answer to your riddle of despair?

            'Miredhel was pierced by these words, for indeed he had been wondering of late about his life as Edledhron of Nandor and of his loneliness; and he replied to his friend: "I cannot tell of how you came to know about my grieves. But, indeed, I do wonder about my life. And I do not know what shall become of it. How shall I find relief without Aerlinwen? Although you be my most trusted friend, will you fill the gap that she left devoid?

            '"I would not," replied Mirylan. "But none shall, either. So I say to you: come with me! Come back to my house that is your house! Leave it behind! Miredhel, you have to leave it behind; all that you hate, all that you wept for, all that you swore vengeance unto, all that you keep in your sadness. You have to leave it behind!

            '"I cannot," said Miredhel, and he bowed his head. But he was looking at something near his forge. And Mirylan saw, thus, a mighty sword that was being forged in the fires of Death Mountain. Its blade was still red-hot, and its handle was blue and decorated with the Triforce mark of Hyrule; and the sword seemed to give off power. Mirylan stared at it for long, until he knew the sword. And he asked to his friend why had he reforged the sword that himself had given him many a year ago when they met.

            ""Because I cannot leave behind my sore, as you tell me to do," answered the Elf, and cold was his stare. "Therefore, I shall forge this blade for it to be the last Orc's bane that I shall wright. For I shall march into war with the Orcs and fight till they are no more or till I fall pierced by their foul spears. Once, there was in my lands a man that wielded Mormegil, a Black Sword; and there shall be now an Elf who shall wield a Black Sword. _Gorgrist _I name it, for it shall prove to be the utmost terror for the goblins.

            '"So you will use one of my own works to fulfill your oath of vengeance and find even more grief," said Mirylan gravely, and Miredhel rose his head and gazed at his friend. "Do you realize that you betray the memory of Aerlinwen by swearing to bring such an evil sword to the world in the name of justice? Do you think that she would be proud of your deeds should she see you now? Indeed, I think not. I would rather think that she would try and tell you to let go your grieves, just as I have.

            'Then Miredhel was angry and said harsh words in answer to his friend.

            '"How dare you say unto me that I betray her memory? Have you become witless in my absence so that you know no longer what you say? Begone if such are your words! Comfort me not with words of pity or insult but with aid in my task. But I say to you, Mirylan the Hylian-smith, you speak in words that no mortal can understand, in your own folly. I shall rid this land and every land of Orcs while I live in the name of her memory. Begone if you think not this is wise!"

            'Mirylan fell silent and spoke not to his friend, and Miredhel felt not at the time the hurt that his words had caused to the Hylian. Therefore, he took his hammer and continued with the forging of Gorgrist, the Terror-cleaver, and was not at peace.

            'That same night, when Mirylan had left, the Elf had almost finished his work with the evil blade. He was all but spent after much work and thought; and for a moment he fell into a sleep that is not common amongst the Elves. And in his dream he saw green fields and wide, and there was a huge space about him that had no visible end; its horizon bent away into a blurred line with the sky. And amidst the field, after having wandered about for the day, and the night had come, he would see a great tree. He would approach to it to lie down under its shade for the night. But beautiful music would issue from the stem, and he would be overwhelmed by its fairness; and amidst the sound he would fall to his knees and weep sorrowfully, There not being any comfort for him.

            'For under the boughs of the great tree, Aerlinwen would be sitting, and her voice again sang with the most beautiful music of Hyrule.

            _When the cold of winter falls_

_            Starless night will cover day_

_            In the veiling of the sun_

_            We will walk in bitter rain_

_            But in dreams_

_            I can hear your name_

_            And in dreams_

_            We will meet again_

_            When the seas and mountains fall_

_            And we come to end of days_

_            In the dark I hear a call_

_            Calling me there_

_            I will go there_

_            And back a again._

'And Miredhel would approach to Aerlinwen, and though he would know it was only a dream he would sit beside her and they would speak together for a long time, until the sun would rise in his dreams. And then she would bid him farewell and bliss.

            'The Elf woke suddenly and the night still hung over him. And out of regret for having lost again his beloved, having shunned his dearest friend away and having almost finished an evil blade he sank into the deepest sorrow again, and bitter and numerous were his tears. He walked again towards the forge and he beheld the sword of evil and wept yet again. And over the red blade that just awaited to be cooled fell many an Elven tear that quenched the heat of wrath and hate that Miredhel had bestowed upon the weapon. And thus the blade lost its evil will and hatred, though it never lost its hate for evil itself. When his sore grief had passed, Miredhel looked at the sword and behold! It was white as the veil of the moon, and soft light seemed to flow from it.

            'By fate, Mirylan came back at that same time to try and take his friend away from his madness again. And so it was that Dagnir Umiana, Evil's Bane, was revealed before him for the first time, and he was glad that his fellow smith had turned away from his path of evil and had regained his goodness. And thus spoke Miredhel:

            '"The blade that you gave to me as a token of our friendship long ago has been made to vanquish evil from the world. I no longer desire death and revenge, but peace and justice. Aerlinwen of the fair voice her self showed me my wronging, and I shall rue deeply forever of it. Therefore, since my heart has been stained with evil wishes, I am not worthy of wielding Dagnir Umiana. One that has a pure heart may claim it to be a lent gift from the Elves to the Hylia in the ages to come. But none shall touch or use this blade while this age is here. It shall remain locked and safe, away from the hands of the unpure.

            '"I shall honour thy word and not claim it mine anew as I intended," said Mirylan. "But wherefore should be called a Bane? What name give you to the blade that only the pure-hearted may hold?"

            'Miredhel stood in thought for a while, but he then smiled and took the sword in his hands for the last time in the world's existence, held it aloft and cried: _Aiya! __Turmegil utúlië Hyrule, Dagnir Umiana o Hylia!_

And his words long were carried by the wind.

            _Malon laid down the rolls and looked at her father. Talon lay soundly asleep in a chair beside her bed, mumbling in his dream. "I know how much you like history… zzzz… Lad told me so… zzzz… nice lad…_

_            The girl smiled charmingly and stooped over the man; and she kissed him tenderly in his cheek. "Yes, daddy, I loved it. Thank you." And she covered her father with a warm blanket._

_            She then lay down on her bed, blew the candle and covered herself in the bedsheets._

            A. N. Translation: 'Behold! The Master Sword has come to Hyrule, Evil's Bane of the Hylia'. Pretty good, huh?

            Please, leave your comments on this story. Please, really leave your comments on this story. It took me only three afternoons (and not the whole afternoons) to write it, but I think it is pretty much an effort to come up with phrases and names in Elvish. For the record: Miredhel means 'Jewel-Elf', Mirylan means 'Jewel-Hylian' and Aerlinwen means 'Song-lady'; and all three are mine this time! Thanks to Snowsilver to drew a picture of Miredhel while forging the Master Sword. I'm sorry, Snow: I don't have a website, so would you mind posting it on yours? I'm terribly sorry I didn't tell you this before; it just slipped off my mind. Thanks in advance.

            Hey! Maybe I could accept some ideas for new tales! So go ahead, dear readers, tell me of a particular idea you might have and I'll see if it can be fitted to the fic. See ya! Namarie!

            P. S. The first song is all mine, though you can sing it to U2's 'Miss Sarajevo'. The second song is from 'LotR: The Fellowship of the Rings' soundtrack and its called 'In dreams'. If you get a chance to listen to it, do it. I assure you won't be disappointed.

            Update: Snowsilver kindly drew the picture of Miredhel forging the Master Sword in a forge. Check it out and leave your comments!

            _http://www.side7.com/cgi-bin/S7SDB/DisplayImg.pl?INO=241579_


	13. A ReDead's Tale

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, names or places that might appear in The Legend of Zelda™

                A. N. Now really, it's very weird that I post a fic sometime ago. It gets ditched without a single review. I post another fic shortly afterwards. It is accepted. Suddenly, out of nowhere the first fic gets five reviews asking for an update. I do so somewhat awkwardly because of the first response. And I get, finally a total of nine reviews for only two chapters in a long-forgotten story! 

                Not that I regret that, I'm really thrilled about this. But I will always think of it as strange.

                So! How many of you have wondered about where ReDeads come from? I bet not many of you. Well, here's your chance to find out about it! But remember, this is my own theory/myth. It's not official.

WARNING: This one contains angst; not much, but still it can be a bit gruesome.

A ReDead's Tale: Night Forever

                I am just a plain Hylian trying to make a living in a city. I have no skills with a sword, no skills with a lance, no skills with a bow. I am not a soldier, of course. That is plain: that since my childhood I have avoided violence whenever possible. I am not ashamed of this though. Why would I? Within myself lies not the desire of pain, whether upon others or myself. I am, in fact, a poet; and I have loved poetry and music since I can remember. Ah! I wonder at the heart that does not rejoices each time the fairness of music and well-woven words fly across the air. I know not wherefore there are, indeed, fellow Hylians that hold music as a simple instrument of making silliness and nonsense rhyme. There is naught wrong with rhymes and folk-music; But naught can compare with true poetry that fills the air with joy.

                _As see myself as I am_

_                Feeling utmost joy_

_                Something deep inside…_

_                O! hearkens me then._

                Since there are no more true poets that make songs of beauty and lore, my services have been not highly called for. But it is no ill-fate to me that music is not what it used to be in the years after the Fierce Wars. Still, ho! Then was music well appreciated and musicians well-rewarded! How the viols would weep! How the harps would cry! How the voices would sing! How there still was beauty in the air all about!

                _We hope, we that dwell beneath the stars_

_                For a world without dread, conflicts or wars_

_                For a realm of peace, love and rejoice_

_                Where the sounds out of our mouths shall be of fair voice_

But those times are all but gone. With the fall of the castle and the exile of the princess, sadness is now our daily bread. Children do not play, lovers do not lie in bliss, towners do not shop and I am bereft of my work; for my duty is to kindle hope in the hearts with music and poetry. Alas! For these unhappy days have grown long and without an end. And it is all because of that Gerudo king that has taken over the castle.

*             *                *

                There is a beautiful Hylian-maiden that lives nearby. My heart has been bent towards her for many years, for she has been a dear friend of mine since my early days of adulthood. Dinrael is her name, and I am proud to say that she has turned her love to me in these days of late; it is what I most desperately need in these times when inspiration comes not to me at the bidding. That air that flows from the castle, an air of evil, hinders every blissful thought in me and makes me write and sing only in harsh words and tones. Alas! My music is my most precious possession and I would not have it taken away from me. I believe that this Gerudo man does not like fair poetry in any way. Well, I must say that this is his own problem. If he likes not my poetry then he can turn around and go back to his desert. Here I shall sing to my love and people!

                Dinrael is sitting beside me, staring at the window that leads to her street. She wants not to leave for her house now that night is come: thieves have multiplied in the city, and she will not risk any journey in the night. I am not at all distressed by this; indeed, one might almost say that I am cheerful for having her stay tonight under my roof. I look at her and smile.

                _And when I go away_

_                I'll still find something there with my love_

_                It's understood, it's everywhere with my love._

_                Don't ever ask me why_

_                I never bade goodbye to my love_

_                It's understood, it's everywhere with my love._

_                And when the hopeless fail_

_                I'll have something there with my love._

_                It's understood, my love._

*             *                *

                An edict prohibiting music in the streets! I tore asunder the parchment that has been set amidst the town square a few hours ago. How dares he, the Gerudo king! I shall not obey this command under any doom that I may receive. A city without music! Who has heard of such an atrocity? I shall not obey that!

                Dinrael looks at me with fear in her eyes. Am I not concerned with what has happened with other lawbreakers, she asks? There is no law that may forbid the making of the first of arts in Hyrule, I answer.

                My heart is boiling. I want to run and write a song that shall defy this insolence against the Hylians. I shall do so. But not now, not with my dear Dinrael so concerned about me. Noticing her expression, I hold her in my arms and mutter soft words. _Do not worry, Dinrael. Naught shall happen to me, nor you._ I know not whence does this confidence comes though. How can I assure her that nothing shall happen really? Do I posses the power to withhold this great evil? Could a simple poet defy the king of the Conqueror Gerudo? Curse that man!

                I stride back to my house closely followed by my beloved. But I turn my gaze to the castle before I enter by street. Two years have come to pass since the exile of our princess and still I mourn about her tragic loss. How bravely the King fought that day! But the besiegers broke the gate and entered the castle; and they slew many townsfolk and soldiers out of the mere desire to do so. I was, fortunately, with the village-guard that surrendered shortly thereafter to the Gerudo king. As I have said, violence is not within my nature; but I could have died bravely that day by the bridge instead of having to live on with this. 

                But what am I saying? I fought not, I fight not and I shall not fight ever willing. I do not consider myself a coward, indeed I would hold a sword and slay in the name of my kin, but I would not do it willingly. Still, I have to carry on with my life like this until some unknown power drives out the Gerudo king. In the meanwhile, I have Dinrael and her life to worry about.

*             *                *

                The night has come. I sit down and remain in silent thought as my beloved sinks in her sleep. I look at her and many joyful thoughts run across my mind. What is it that this town needs to not fall into utter despair? A great song filled with strength and courage, and joy and bliss, and fervor and zeal, and loyalty and love! But how could I achieve such a feat with a death treat hanging above me? And, would I make this song, would it not prove my doom as the Gerudo king hears about it? I do not want to die. Yet, the idea does not leave my heart.

                Dinrael stirs in her dreams. What need I to make a song? Inspiration, music, a central theme, courage, support from others, and desire.

                I stand up and walk for the door, I have decided to take a stroll about the city. I put on my cloak and go forth into the silent streets. Not a soul is to be seen in the outside. I shudder with slight cold. The cobblestone that covers the city's floor is stained and dirty, and the white walls that ran across my street are all covered in dark spots of dirt, rain and blood. The end of my road is a score feet away from me. As I walk along the darkened houses, many thoughts and ideas come to my head as the content of my song; so I sing softly and without much of my voice.

                _If I could dare and turn away_

_                If you would dare and fight your way_

_                If I could, then I would,_

_                If I could I would lead a chance._

_                Inspiration despairs not._

I reach the end of the street. The dogs that strangely roamed the city every night ere the fall of Hyrule are not to be seen anymore. As queer as this may sound, I miss even this aspect from the old days. My life had been pleasant and full of joy then, and now I miss every single detail of that life.

                _If you could throw this life into the void_

_                Leave this horrid place_

_                And see it break, break away_

_                Into the ash, into the dust_

_                Into the darkness, into the flame._

                There is something that lies over the edge of the central well; it is a strange figure that seems to be covered in a black mantle. If it is a Hylian, then what a huge Hylian he is: his shoulders are wide as bridges, and his legs are two columns that support a great body. No. No Hylian is that tall. _A Sheikah maybe?_

                Nay, no Sheikah remain in these times of late. They all have left the realm, I deem. But who might be sitting amidst the cold and shadows of the night? A despaired soldier? An ancient and powerful warrior? The Bazaar owner?

                Now that I am a few steps away from the figure I raise my voice and ask what might a lone shadow in the night be doing in the market at night. To my surprise, the figure seems to bow its head and a torrent of evil laughter issues from it. I stand in utmost astonishment.

                To my surprise and disgust, the figure talks to me with great scorn in its voice: it asks me if I am the minstrel that has been defying the law in these days of late with insolent rhymes against the Gerudo king.

                I will not lie and betray my King and princess; Yes, I answer.

                At the sound of these last words, the cloaked figure throws away its raiment and behold! The very Gerudo king stands before me, with his evil eyes of brown and hellish red hair that dangles aloft. The gem that lies in his forehead seems to glitter in the darkness with a terrible yellowish light, and his hideous factions are bent in an evil expression that faces me. His laughter rings in my ears again as he stands up and walks towards me, his hand still hidden behind his waist.

                I back away as he speaks to me again with his terrible voice: he says that he does not like lawbreakers and doomed Hylians. He says that music is for the victory and not for the pure joy of the soul. I am so terrified that I dare not disagree with him however my desire. He says finally that I can be set as an example for those who defy his law and that my doom shall be the Hero's bane.

                Before I can wonder at what hero he refers he draws a knife from behind his waist and stabs be swiftly in my chest. I feel the worst of the pains I have felt in my life as the blade digs deep within me and pierces my heart. I feel blood rushing from my throat and into my mouth, and I spit it the bitter crimson onto the already stained floor. I feel a darkness falling over my limbs and sight, and I only hear that laughter yet again and the voice saying that I have died - once.

*             *                *

                I wake up with the bitterest cold in my body. I am lying on the cold, hard cobblestone of the market with many stains of red about me and no trace of the man whom with I spoke last night. The sun is rising already and his warm rays attempt vainly to relief my cold. I stir painfully and try to stand up – and fail miserably: I fall down and wince in my pain. I pass out of conscience again.

*             *                *

                My beloved Dinrael found me some hours ago, lying in the stone floor of the market, and brought me back to my house. Bless her! But if I feel my heart a bit lighter I cannot say the same of my body. I am feverish and in pain, and my skin has turned a whitest hue of pink. I sweat and my tears fall from my eyes even if I am not weeping, and I cannot lift a single muscle in my limbs. Nevertheless, my fair lady tends me and remains at my side ever. She brings a wet strap of linen and places it over my boiling head. Praised be Nayru! It feels so relieving! 

                I thank again Dinrael and she asks me who might have caused such a hideous wound. In simple words (for I cannot talk much out of my weariness) I tell her about my encounter with the Gerudo king. The color leaves her face and I see that she is weeping in fear that the evil king might come to our house to finish me off. I tell her that naught there is to worry, for the Gerudo king thinks me dead, or so I deem.

                The weariness is beating me off. Dinrael notices my tired expression and bids me to rest asleep for as long as necessary. Thanking her and the goddesses for her kindliness, I close my eyes and wander into a dreamless sleep.

*             *                *

                It has been two days since the Gerudo king wounded me. To my surprise, I get up early in the morning and notice that the pain is all but gone: indeed, my arms feel a bit heavy and my head is still somewhat veiled in memory's clouds. But a strange feeling of forgetfulness looms over me. Where am I? And why am I so hungry? I stare about me looking for my beloved when I notice that no light seems to issue from the sun. As I walk for the window I hear some noises coming from a small, curled figure lying on a bed: my dear Dinrael in a well deserved sleep. Oddly enough, I feel no desire to wake her and tell her that she is lying on my bed. Whatever! I'll tell her tomorrow.

                In the meantime, I know now why the light is not entering through my window: it's not the morning yet, and dawn is still far away. The moon is even still shining brightly in the sky. Good grief! It's so shiny that it can even hurt my weak eyes! But that should pass soon, for I'm already recovering much of my strength, though I feel laziness in every limb. I withdraw from the window and look about my house once again. It's so tidy, so clean, so cozy. I don't like it. I don't like it at all. But I'll fix this tomorrow. I don't want to do anything right now.

                It's very queer, that I don't want to do a thing. I've always been very conscious about order in every aspect of life, but right now I want to unmake everything about me. Of course, I won't. But I really feel like hitting something to ease my state. 

                Ease my state? What state? _What the plague am I thinking of?_

                What's wrong with me? It must be the my illness, indeed. Yes, I'm delirious, that's the problem. I have to go back to my bed and lie still for a while, until my thoughts are arranged anew. 'Unmake everything'? Too bright a Moon? Yes, I must lie down and rest; I'm not thinking clearly and I'm frightening myself. What's happening to me?

                When I reach my bed I look down to it and hate it. I don't feel at all like lying down. Why would I rest abed when I'm feeling healthy however lazy? No. But want neither to cause any trouble in my house until I'm fully rational again. What should I do then? Wake Dinrael? No! She deserves to rest for a while, although it's my bed she's using. Why is she using my bed? Doesn't she have a bed of her own to sleep on? Why is she in my house and not in hers?

                _What am I thinking again?_

                What's going on? I must be-

                No! I mustn't think anything; I have to sleep! But I don't want to lie down, so I'll just remain standing here. Yes. That way, I won't bother anyone and I won't have to lie down to sleep. Yes, it's a good idea! Yes, and I won't have to move again until morning! And I won't be lying in the bed! And I'll unmake everything some other day after. And perhaps some other day. Yes, what a good idea…

*             *                *

                I wake with a scream coming from behind me. I turn round and the light entering from the window blinds me. Oh! Shut it down! Go away! Close the curtain! Close the curtain! Close he curtain!

                Dinrael has woken, and she quickly closes the dratted curtain. Thank you, Dinrael!

                I want to thank her, but I notice her eyes gazing at me with great fear. What's wrong?

                She answers that I am terribly pale in the face, but my skin is turning to a strange color.

                Darn! What's going on? There are ugly patches of brown, dry and dead skin in my arms and my throat. I run to a mirror and pull up my pants. Argh! I have them too on my legs! And they itch. Good grief! They start itching like an army of fleas upon a poor dog that has been left outside. I start a relentless scratching over my arms and legs. Argh! The scratching hurts!

                Dinrael is crying and tries to find some herbal remedy within her pouch; she always carries some in these days of late. But I don't want to feel anything strange over my skin, and I don't want her to be sad. Please don't cry my beloved! I'll be alright! And I'll stay at home today, and I'll fix the house, and you can help me. Please don't cry! Please stop! I don't like the sound of your sobs, they make my skin itchier. Please, Dinrael! Stop weeping! Argh! Stop that! Can't you hear me? Stop weeping! Stop! _Aargh!_

To my utter terror, a fell scream has issued from my mouth. I tremble in fear and cow back to a corner. Dinrael has fled away from my house and has left the door open. Oh! Please! Close the door! Close it! Close it! Close it!

                In a titanic effort, I get up and walk to the entrance. Summoning all my remaining strength I push the door and hear the noise of banging as light stops hurting me. What's happening to me? Nayru! Please! _What's happening to me? Please!_ I burst into miserable and unnumbered tears, but my tears are dark and stained.

*             *                *

                Two days have gone by since the incident with the maiden. What the plague was she crying for? It's just a few ugly, dry, brown and tasty patches of dark skin; there's no need to be alarmed. Also, what was she doing in my house anyway? Who was she?

                The thought of her makes me hungry again. Yes. I've been very hungry lately, but my food I had foolishly kept in my cupboard tastes like dry straw: it's awful. But since I kept scratching, some slices of my flesh fell off and I was drawn to taste them. They're good, but I wonder if anyone else who has healthy skin would prove tastier? Well, I guess that it might be that way.

                I'm beginning to feel drowsy again. When that happens I often forget things. And I find myself wondering about everything. Argh! It doesn't feel good. It makes me itchy and hungry. I see stars, and moons, and blood and sound, and music, and maidens, and knights, and deaths and much, much more.

                Who am I? What am I doing in my house? Where am I? Why am I so hungry?

*             *                *

                It's night, and a day has passed since I ate the last strap of my flesh. I'm hungry.

                I'm hungry.

                I hear a knock. Where? In the door. What's a door? I'm hungry. But I go to the 'door' and open it. Who is this? It's a maiden, just like the ones I see in my dreams. Dreams? What dreams? The ones you have when you… when you… when you…

                _When I what?_

'When I what' what? I'm hungry.

                The 'maiden' watches me and drops the 'jar' she's holding in her hands. She falls to her knees and starts to cry aloud weeping, weeping and weeping desperately: _Cursed desert man! What have you done to him? What have you done to him?._ Him? Who's him? And who's the desert man? And what's a desert? Why is she crying and taking my hand- No. She took my hand but dropped it in disgust. What's wrong with my hand?

                _I'm so hungry._

The maiden weeps and sobs and does nothing else. Why is she crying? I start to walk towards her to ask her, but she backs away screaming and crying. Stop that! It makes me itchy and hungry, and I don't want to hear your cries. Stop it! Stop crying! Don't scream! Close the door! Close it! Stop crying! Stop weeping! _Aargh!_

                She stares at me numbly and I walk towards her. Although I can see her eyes blinking, she doesn't move; she is paralyzed, and I can see fearin her eyes.

                I don't want her to scream anymore, so I kill her then.

                Her blood is tasty too!

*             *                *

                I'm hungry. I'm itchy. There's no sun anymore. There's purple sky. There's many like me. I'm hungry, itchy. I don't like them, they're not tasty. I had to eat someone else, but he was not enough, and he had hard iron. I'm hungry. But he is no more. Many of us can grab him and tear him and eat him. Tasty!

Green. Someone in green is coming. He has a light that flutters over him. Itchy. He's not in iron. Hungry. And I haven't eaten in years. And there's _so _many of us now, and they're not tasty. Maybe he'll be tasty.

                _I'm so hungry. Aaargh!_

                A. N. Angsty, I know. But I do think that ReDeads go through no less than that. Anyone played Resident Evil?

                Okay, now I'm going to be accepting ideas from you, my dear readers. What would you like to see posted as a tale? Tell me! Tell me!


	14. Like Stars that fall unto the World

                A. N. I wish to express my condolences to the families of the seven astronauts that passed away in the _Columbia _Tragedy. Remember that Space Exploration is the tip of the lance of Mankind's discoveries: as it is the most important part of it, without which no ignorance can be trespassed, it is also the part most prone to notch or break. Remember those people that open the way to new knowledge.

                As this Tale is about the stars, I dedicate it to them, although it might be but the smallest of things.

Like Stars that fall unto the World.

                _During her time lying wounded in the houses of healing, Malon often had asked for books or scrolls about ancient history that might ease her time abed. One day, after Link had left for the castle, she received a strange scroll with the royal mark if the Triforce as a seal. With keen excitement, the young woman broke the seal and unrolled the parchment; and she found a short letter amidst the folds._

_                "I hope with my heart that you heal in a nearby time, for Hyrule should not be bereft of a spirit so kind and noble, and of a beauty so great and uncommon. Hylian Knight Link has told me of your love for ancient lore of the Hylia in the first ages of the world; therefore, I send to you a short tale that I am sure you will find interesting; it is, in fact, my favorite tale among all I was to read in my childhood._

_                "Sincerely yours, Princess Zelda of Hyrule."_

                'There was one time, during the Great Evils, in which the Lost Woods were crossed by hosts and lone wanderers for many a time, against the ancient custom. In that age there also were the Kokiri, the Vanadhrim, the Ever-young, the Children of the Forest. It is said that the Old Deku Tree once had a single seedling that fell and was carried by the wind into unknown parts of the wood. And from that single fruit of him came the Kokiri who afterwards called him their father and loved him. And he loved them back.

                'At first, the Kokiri were mortals, subdued to the changes of the World and doomed to remain in their childish form for the joy of the Deku Tree. But he could not at first keep their hearts and minds from growing in wisdom and knowledge, and if a Hylian or Elf of old chanced to pass across the wood, he or she would often meet with the Children and teach them what they could learn. And, being of the form of young men and women, they were tender to the sight and gave the joy of childhood innocence, though they could grow as wise as any mortal man.

                'Thus they were in the old times, ere the Battle against the Orcs, or the exile of Romahil, or the forging of Evil's Bane. And they were content, though they had the life of the secondborn.

                'But evil is and has always been ever-reaching, and not a long time passed ere evil fell over the Children's Forest. For during the beginnings of the Great Evils, when the wolfos first entered the realm, the fell creatures passed over the wood out from the World. And they slew many a tender Kokiri that dwelt within the trees.

                'The oldest tale that has come to us Hylians of days of late is the one about Fincalen of the Kokiri. She was of the first Kokiri to have come out of the seedling according to the Old Songs, and she is remembered for two things: for for her yearning for outer lands and because of her grief for the suffering of the Children of the Wood, for it was because of her pleads that the mighty wills of the Creators sent to the World the guardian spirits that accompany the Kokiri wherever they go. And because of her, too, the spell of the Ever-youth that was laid on them was altered and cast anew.

                'Shortly ere the wargs crossed the Lost Woods, one day Fincalen wandered in the woods with her dear friend Galadhil, who tended a garden of willows. There, having the custom of walking for long times and sleeping under the stars, they found that day the threshold to the Outside; and they knew not what it was, for they were forbidden by the Deku Tree to leave the woods lest they grew old and died untimely. They returned then to the Kokiri Forest and told their folk about the wondrous door they had found that none could trespass or break, save if they knew the pass-word to the realm Hyrule. The Children were amazed and puzzled. And if there was something of their childhood that remained still within their hearts, it was curiosity, the desire of knowledge, be it small or great.

                'Now the Deku Tree learned of the finding of the threshold to the World by a non-Hylian, and he was concerned. Therefore, he summoned Fincalen and Galadhil to him and spoke to them in earnest.

                '"Elder of the Kokiri, I have not called for you to rebuke ye by any actions that you may have made to pass," the Deku Tree said to them, for they were afraid that they might have done some ill. "But rather to give ye my counsel in matters that are to be pondered by your minds. Have you found, indeed, the Door that leads to the Sea?"

                'Then Fincalen stood forth and was about to answer, when Galadhil spoke ere she uttered a word: "Indeed, father, we have done so. But it was my counsel that day to walk in places that remained veiled from us. Thus, if there be any evil, slight or great, that we may have wrought, it was my doing and not that of Fincalen. I have all guilt."

                '"If that is indeed true, then I have also part of the guilt, for I followed him on my own will," said Fincalen to aid her friend, for the love between them was great a friendship. But the Deku Tree did not told them any ill. Instead, he said: "I do not think that the Door to the Sea is to be kept in forbid to the Kokiri, nor I think of any of your actions to have been wrong. Yet, I would counsel ye two to remain away from the Threshold of Hyrule, for evil things that plague the world are yet to come to this realm; and I do not want the Children of the Forest to suffer needlessly by them.

                '"What evils might be so great that would call for your concern?" asked Fincalen.

                '"That is yet to be seen," answered the Deku Tree. "Though I am to ever protect this forest I cannot foresee all things that shall come to pass."

                'After that, the friends took their leave and returned to their peaceful and joyful life in the forest. However, curiosity lies ever on a child's heart. And though Galadhil and Fincalen had reached manhood and womanhood in years, their hearts still yielded those many desires that children often have. And unrest for their desire of knowledge of the Outworld was ever about them.

                'Now Fincalen was the most curious of the two, and time and again she had showed her intentions to Galadhil to have at least a short gaze at the forbidden Door, to which Galadhil would always rebel and say: "Nay dearest friend, I will not have any of us break the biddings of the Great Deku Tree. Did he not say that Great Evils would plague our realm should we meddle with affairs that do not concern us? Unless you want to ignore the Deku Tree's words, stay and forget your longing for the Door that leads to the Sea."

                '"The words of the Deku Tree were not of forbid, but of counsel," replied Fincalen one day that she felt most bored at Galadhil's passiveness. "Therefore, I could go and behold the Gate without breaking any command. But I do not understand you, my friend: are you not also curious to find about the Door to another realm? I had thought that we shared this unrest both in our hearts; but it seems that I alone shall have to endure with this small but constant burden."

                '"Not alone," said Galadhil, but he did not yield but remained unmoved; and he tried to comfort his friend. But Fincalen would not listen, and for a time the matter was forgotten. 

'In that time, the Hylia began their journeys to the outside, whether to remain dwelling in other parts of Arda or to bring back to Hyrule lore and wisdom from the Firstborn, whom they had befriended since long. And they would often return with wondrous pieces of lore by the elves or engines of great minds by Men. But they would also bear great tales of places far away from the small Kingdom of Hyrule; and there chanced that a group of wanderers would meet the Children and would tell these stories of terrible beasts, fair folk, wide lands, deep seas, beautiful maidens and highest mountains. In many ways, the Hylians brought knowledge to their realm.

                'Ere long, these tales reached Fincalen's ears, and the Kokiri maiden felt curiosity stir again in her inner mind. And though she and Galadhil often heard the stories brought by the Hylia when they told them, he had long ago forgotten about the Doors. So it was than when she told him about her rekindled intention to find the Gate again he said to her again that the Deku Tree had spoken against it.

                '"And unless you want to risk the anger of our father, you should stay in your home and be content with the news from the Outside," he said also.

                '"Why do you keep denying your own longing to know the World?" she asked in anger, for she had though that her words would be received with enthusiasm rather than with warnings. "You have seen the Hylians come and go with such marvels from other realms, and no evil has come from their journeys that has shaken the realm. The Great Deku Tree is wise, and he did not let us go forth to the Doors because the Hylia were to be the first to enter the World. But now that they have stepped into it and have found naught of evil, I shall myself venture outside of Hyrule."

                'And Galadhil was silent at her words, and Fincalen departed at once for the Gates. But he rushed to the Deku Tree and told him about her intentions.

                '"Moreover," he said, "I would not have her apart from me because some call of the Outside. Therefore, I beg you: please bid her to remain here amongst her folk, for the Outside was not made for the Children of the Forest."

                '"My child," answered the Deku Tree, "were there anything that I could do to quench her desire for the unknown, I would indeed do it. But to hinder her path for the sake of a friend would only turn her away from thee, and her heart would never understand. Thus, I say to thee: let her be! For maybe fate has some surprise yet to show us and her."

                'Galadhil, then, went forth to his house after taking his leave, but he went with a heavy heart and a concern for his friend's safety.

                'Fincalen had walked amidst the trees and plants of the wood for many hours till she had stood before the Door that leads to the Sea. But were a closed and huge gate had stood years before, a great tunnel opened with the work of the Hylia of old was. And she wavered for the first time since her thought of seeing the Outside, for she remembered the words of the Deku Tree. "But I shall cause no evil to my folk and father," she thought; and the first and last of the Children of the Wood crossed the threshold to the World.

                'The light she saw at the end of the tunnel blinded her for a while, for the Kokiri had never seen brighter light than that which entered from above the hanging boughs. But she quickly overcame it and gazed at the lands about the Gate; and it is said that when she saw the sea and the havens of the Hylia she was afraid of its vastness. She nearly turned round and returned, but her longing for the Outside held her still. A few miles away thus, she saw for the first time the clouds unhindered that melted away with the horizon that far out-reached her gaze, the gulls crying about the main tower in the Hylian haven of Eärost, the waters of a hugely immense pond that stretched away as the ocean, the white sand that burned her hand if she touched it carelessly and the people that came and welcomed her.

                'Great was her joy among the Hylia that dwelt beside the sea; and she would often dream of bringing Galadhil to share with her the bliss of the ocean. But each time she thought of returning to the wood, her yearning for the World of Arda stayed her.

                'Now it came to pass that the Great Evils were soon to come, though not even the Deku Tree of the Lost Woods could have foreseen it. But the time of the return of the Hylia was drawing near, and the Sheikah were beginning to appear before the lords of Hyrule; and the Shadow Folk that the Elves name the Daeridhrim were seen at first as an omen for the things to come, though they aided countless times the cause of the Hylia thereafter. Although the other races that dwelt in the realm did not perceived it at once, the Deku Tree of the wood was aware of the events that would cause the wan of the Hylia, and he was ever loth for his children to suffer in a war that had naught to do with them.

                'Ruefully, the warg invasion came in an hour unexpected. And it is said that there was a terrible battle between the beasts and the Hylia of Eärost, and that in that dreadful noon the wolfos turned away from the sea and entered the Lost Woods from the east. Being unable to hunt them because of their wounded, the Hylia by the Sea were troubled by these things; and they knew not whom to turn to in their aid and that of their kindred. Scouts they sent into the woods to alert the people of Hyrule, but none of them came back afterwards.

                'Now Fincalen had seen dreadful things in that battle, and her love for the Outside was quenched and she longed for the woods again. Thus, against the counsel of the Sea-Hylia she bade farewell to the haven of Eärost and went forth back to the Lost Woods. A scout went with her, but upon arriving to the Gate of the Wood, he grew afraid and did not want to pass it. Therefore, she went on alone and unaided, back to a realm where the fell creatures would roam and rape the fair things that there were for many years. Long and dark were her hours of journey through the woods, for her fear for the wargs was great. She who had walked in the wood many a time for many a year and had grown to love all trees was afraid of the same hanging boughs above her; for she thought they concealed the sun's light from her eyes with a mean purpose.

                'After that terrible journey through the Lost Woods, there she came at length to the house of her beloved friend Galadhil, but he was nowhere to be found about it. She saw, though, that the house had been empty for a long time now, and that the green weeds had been wilting so, as did the trees in his garden. Fincalen was worried for her friend thus; and she wondered for a long time about him. But sleep began crawl into her, and she stayed the night in the deserted house. And that was the last night she would rest at ease in her life as a mortal Kokiri.

                'The day came with a gray sky, and Fincalen awoke with heavy unrest even with the peaceful sleep she had had the last night. But it was, perhaps, that her heart was still as heavy as a felled trunk. She took a last gaze at the house in which many blissful times had passed in the company of her friend and turned to the woods again. She then strode amidst the same plants and trees she had known in her youth, but where the sounds of fair birds and tender children had rang a mist of silence hung. Wonder overtook her again, for she had not yet guessed the reason for this unquietness amidst this silence; but she went on, ever with the looming branches above her. Thus, she came across the pond in which a tunnel to the Zora River opened. Again, where the fish had swam in pure and clean waters, defiled yellowness floated about now; and the tunnel to the River was shut. And now Fincalen stood in doubt, for the entrance to Kokiri forest was near and she wanted more than aught to see her kindred again; yet, fear for the unknown struck her, for she began to guess what the wolfos could have done to the Children of the Forest. At length, she made her mind, and she crossed the last tunnel to the forest.

                'The horror that struck her was beyond anything that words can describe. She saw the marred bodies of her kindred all scattered about the ground, hundreds of them. And the pond amidst the clearing was all reddened, and the air was foul and stank with the scent of dead. The plants green that had stood about were all thorn and broken, and so were the young trees that could not have had more that a dozen months of life. The child ran down the slope to the valley in which the Children's Forest was, but she could only weep in her grief for the loss of life.

                'After many hours of quiet tears, for a strange form of madness did not let her cry aloud, she remembered suddenly her father. And with what speed her short legs allowed her to use she ran to the Deku Tree's meadow, jumping over the bodies of her friends and leaping over the ground in the defiled pond. But when she had crossed half the way to the meadow, she came across the last Kokiri that had died in his attempt to reach the Deku Tree; and the madness was soon to pass when she saw the face of her most beloved friend: Galadhil the Tree-friend.

                'Her cries rang across the air, across the wide and thick air. And it is even sung that they reached the fields of Hyrule and even the stars in the sky of night, though it was still noon. But her voice, filled with grief, anger and utter loneliness, can be still heard by those who get lost in the wood with an evil heart, and they shudder in their fear for the strange bellow the wind carries ere they vanish from the living world and go to a fate unknown.

                'Indeed, louder than any voice any mortal has ever had was that of the last Child of the Wood. And in that hour, a thing that never had happened, nor has happened again, came to pass in the halls of the Creators. Although it was no song of grief but a desperate cry, they were moved to pity. And when they stooped to see that which issued such a sadness in her grief they were struck to see her.  And they spoke to the Deku Tree afterwards:

                '"Hear now, elder of Hyrule: Thou hast heard the cries of one of thy children in her sorrow. We know that thou hast felt pity immeasurable and that thou wouldst do aught to avert the terrible fate of the Children at the hands of the Fell Creatures. Wouldst thou, then, hearken to our words?"

                'And the Deku Tree, who had been sunk in grief comparable to that of Fincalen, answered: "Yea I would, as ever I have done"

                'And the Creators proceeded: "Then listen to our bidding, elder of Hyrule: Thou shalt yield anew a fruit from which new life shall spring forth, and thou shalt call your offspring the Children of the Forest again. And again they shall dwell in the Children's Forest. But thou shalt forbid them to leave it lest a more terrible doom fall over them."

                '"But I shall not be able to keep their growing minds from yearning for new knowledge," the Deku Tree answered. "How shall, then, come to pass that my children will die not again, whether by age or sickness or mischance?"

                '"We hear thy words, eldest," replied the Creators, and their voice was like thunder in the storm of eternity. "And we deem you right. Therefore, a sign shall be given. Mortality shall not be amongst the Kokiri hereafter; and their minds shall not grow, nor shall their bodies. In perpetual innocence they shall remain."

                '"May the word of the Creators be", said the Deku Tree. And the Creators made a fruit grow out of him and took it. And out of the seeds came a new generation of Kokiri that were as stray and confounded as the first children had been when they came out of the seedling. But then they saw with their eyes for the first time; and the first thing they saw was their father, the Great Deku Tree, and they were content. The Children of the Forest would never grow into full grown Hylians in body again, nor in mind this time. Thus, they did not understand the Deku Tree's purpose nor they do in these days of late, save by the Sage of Forest.

                'But to Fincalen the Deku Tree said: "It is not right for thee to remain with the memory of grief thou hast suffered. I shall, then, forge thee a new mind. Thou shall dwell with me, but only thy spirit shall come; they heart and body will remain in this world."

                'So the Deku Tree gave life to the Kokiri we know, and so Fincalen's spirit was stripped from her body as a memory; and should he choose to do so, the Deku Tree can return the memory to the body of Fincalen so she would remember the elder days of the Hylia.

                'Then, when all the doing was over, the creators spoke again to the Deku Tree: "Now we shall show thee the sign of which we had spoken. Behold the stars!"

                'And the Deku Tree did so, and he was content, for he understood at once the sign: down to the World, from the night sky, many stars descended upon Hyrule. And each one went and dwelt ever after with a child as a guardian, preventing the Kokiri from going forth from the woods.

                'At last, when all fairies had known their child, a last one of bright green lay on Fincalen's hair while the last of the Firstborn Kokiri slept before the Deku Tree. And great friendship arose between them for the rest of their lives, even until these days of late.'

                _Malon noticed the stars outside through the window; and they shone brightly for the realm. "Well, Fairy Boy," she thought. "I sure hope you treated well yours: after all, not everyone has the chance of talking to a star."_

_                Sleep overcame her, and the red potion she had drank was making her feel tired. Closing her eyes and sighing softly, the young woman fell into a deep sleep filled with fair dreams._

                A. N. 'Galadhil' means 'Tree-friend' and it's an original character. 'Fincalen' means 'Green-hair' so I think it's pretty obvious of whom I speak. 'Eärost' means 'Sea-fortress' and 'Vanadhrim' means 'People of the Ever-young'.

                Thank you for this wonderful experience! Thanks to all reviewers but special thanks to Snowsilver, Snoopy, wayofwater, Sondilyn the Canadian Deku Scrub Lumberjack and, of course, Link no Miko! You have supported me since the beginning and I hope to repay you somehow in a near future.

                Again, I wish to express my grief for the seven astronauts of the _Columbia _tragedy. Remember those who open the way to new knowledge.

                I cannot say a definitive farewell, since I already have my idea for a new fic, so goobaiu my friends! _Namarie, melloneth nim!_

                (Is that well written Paul?)


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